On the Border
by boswifedeb
Summary: Gruesome murders along the US-Mexico border prompt Homeland Security Agent Chris Oakley to ask Matt to face his demons and return to the Rio Grande - the site where his cousin Will was killed. Rated T for language and violence. **Immediately follows "Burn Card" **
1. Chapter 1

"**On the Border"**

_****Immediately follows "Burn Card" ****_

"_Love is the master key that opens the gates of happiness, of hatred, of jealousy, and, most easily of all, the gate of fear."_

_~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr._

**01**

_Nuevo Laredo, Mexico..._

Four days. He had left his village on Tuesday and now it was Friday. Surely it must have been longer. Gabriel Goyo had walked mile after mile, the shoes on his feet going from old and worn to practically scraps as he made his way toward the US border. He had traveled mostly at night as he had been advised and tucked himself away during the day doing his best to stay invisible. Las Serpientes had eyes everywhere, but even their eyes didn't see as well in the night. His companion had turned back after only one day and he had been on his own ever since. The loneliness that he felt had been kept at bay by the hopes that he had - of escaping the violence of the gang that had killed his entire family and of starting over in a new land. Now as daylight faded from the sky, he carefully made his way toward the river - the last thing standing between himself and freedom.

A friend who had made the trip before had advised him to speak to no one, stay to himself, and no matter what - avoid the coyotes. They worked for the gang that he was trying to escape. If they found out that he had left the village, that would be the end of him. They thought no more of killing a man than stepping on a cockroach.

Gabriel overheard a group that was about to make the journey and the excitement in their voices was contagious. It was only by sheer luck that he had seen the two men that were supposed to be leading them across before they saw him. Both had snake tattoos on their necks that had given them away and he had darted into a shop, but could overhear them talking about their plans for that night. The group that he had been listening to was a decoy; a group of important people that had paid extremely well for their expertise were going to receive VIP treatment. As he listened he learned that the decoy group would be launched across with innertubes and then further downstream just moments later the second group would be taken across in rafts. Once the US agents were busy with the decoys, the VIPs would face far fewer challenges.

Gabriel made up his mind to shadow the group of important people and make his way across just a little further away, close enough to be able to trail them, but far enough that the coyotes wouldn't know he was there.

Waiting for darkness to become complete, he looked one last time at the group of unfortunates. Would they make it across alive? And if so, would they be caught and sent back by the American government? Or would they find the dreams that they were chasing?

An hour later he had stripped out of his clothes on the bank of the Rio Grande, leaving on only his underwear and the shreds of his shoes as he had been told by his friend. When they quietly entered the water on rafts, he began swimming. Although it wasn't something that he had done a lot of back home, he was glad that he had learned the skill from his uncle. The thought of the man now brought tears to his eyes as he remembered how the fun-loving brother of his mother had been first beaten by the gang and then when he could no longer fight, was shot as he lay bleeding in the street of the village. He thought to himself, _Tío, I know you are with me tonight._

When the VIPs were about halfway across, the sound of the decoy group being intercepted by US Border Patrol came to Gabriel's ears and he also heard the coyotes quietly laughing. _At least they made it across alive._

He turned his attention back to the group nearest him and nearly screamed out in panic as a particularly strong current pulled his body further downstream. Every bit of control that he possessed was used to remain quiet. He continued to swim as quietly as possible even though he had lost sight of the other group. When he felt his feet come in contact with the sand and mud of the riverbank he wanted to shout for joy. Instead, he stayed in the reeds that grew along the shore, catching his breath and listening. The VIP group could faintly be heard and he worked his way up the slippery bank, took off the underwear, and quickly removed his clothing from the bags he had put them in to keep them dry.

There was another sound to the east and he froze as he stood there naked. Someone was coming toward him. Grabbing the clothing, he moved as quietly as he could toward the thicker brush and squatted down. From out of the darkness a bright light pierced his eyes and felt like a knife cutting through his skull. He was blinded by it and sat trembling as the voice came from behind the light. "_Sal de ahí. Ahora."_ Silently he stood trying to cover his naked body with the clothing in his hands, then edged out from the little bit of cover as he had been instructed.

Saturday morning Sergeant Mark Traughber with US Customs and Border Patrol was working his way down the river when he saw something on the northern bank. He cut the throttle on the boat as his partner Jose Marina picked up the AR15. "Good Lord Almighty…" The veteran sergeant felt his breakfast rise in his throat. "Not again." There in front of him were the remains of some poor soul who had been bound up and cut so badly that it was impossible to tell - at least at his current distance - if it was male or female. He picked up the radio microphone and called it in, requesting that his boss Captain Mauricio Prospero be notified immediately.

Marina turned away from the gruesome scene and kept watch over the river while Traughber silently shook his head. He and Prospero had talked just four days before when another body had been found in similar condition further upstream. Now Mark wondered what the captain would say about his idea. And he wondered if the man that he had requested to be called in would agree to come, given what had happened to him not long ago in an area not too far removed from where they were now.

_Rockin' PH Ranch, Houston, Texas..._

"There you go, Catey. Remember what I told you about the reins." Matt Houston watched proudly as his five year old daughter Catherine Rose sat atop Cricket, Matt's favorite mare. The bubbly little girl had spent her life riding with her daddy from the time she was six weeks old and was as comfortable around horses as he was. The smile on her face was contagious - a perfect imitation of her father - but with the difference of her mother CJ's hazel eyes.

Matt turned his attention toward the woman who stood at the fence of the riding ring taking pictures and video of the occasion. The glow of pregnancy lit her face and once again she took his breath away. He silently thanked God for finally bringing them together after all the years of denial on both their parts.

His attention was drawn to an SUV that was entering the property behind foreman Ben Devereaux's truck. He could see the emblem of Customs and Border Patrol on the door. "Babe, are you expecting somebody from BP?"

CJ turned away from the ring and was startled to see who was sliding from the vehicle and felt her heart give a lurch. She was pretty sure of why the pair was there and wasn't happy about it in the least.

"Catey, stop her over here by Mama, okay? Go easy, now." He watched as the little girl did exactly as she had been taught.

Homeland Security Agent Chris Oakley looked dismayed. "That can't be Catey Rose."

Matt had climbed up on the fence and was grinning. "It sure is. Catey, say hello to Mr. Oakley and Mr. Traughber."

"Hi!"

"Hello there yourself." Mark reached over and gave Cricket a scratch on the jaw then shook hands with CJ and received a handshake and hug from Matt as did Oakley. He noticed that although she was smiling, CJ seemed nervous.

Houston gave Cricket a pat on the neck. "Are y'all lost or what?"

"Kind of - Mr. Devereaux found us at your gate next door and was nice enough to bring us over here." Oakley motioned toward the foreman who now came to the fence. "Think we can talk?"

"Alright." The cowboy turned his attention to his daughter. "Catey, time to call it quits for today."

"Aww, Daddy." She batted her eyelashes at Matt and he smilingly shook his head.

"No ma'am. Not gonna work."

Ben stepped through the gate. "C'mon, Catey. You and me will get Cricket squared away and give her a treat, okay?"

"Okay." She held to the saddle horn as the foreman led the horse out of the ring and to the barn. Smiling back over her shoulder she spoke to the newcomers, "Nice to meet you." In just a second she turned back and began jabbering a mile a minute at Ben who just smiled and nodded as she told him all about her ride that day.

Houston wiped the sweat off his brow and then the headband of the white straw hat. "So what are you boys up to?"

"Have you watched the news lately?" Oakley had noticed CJ's reaction as well as the fact that she was expecting.

"Nope, don't do that much anymore." He saw CJ tense up slightly. "Hang on just a minute."

"Sure." They watched as Houston went toward the barn and asked Ben if he would mind bringing Catey back home when they got done and after being assured that it was no problem, returned to the group.

"Let's go to the house and get a drink. Think you can find your way without getting lost?" He clapped Chris on the back.

"We'll muddle through." Oakley got back behind the wheel of the SUV and watched as Matt helped his wife into a pickup and then led the way down the driveway. "CJ is not happy to have us here."

"Can you really blame her?" Traughber thought back to when he had last seen Houston at his cousin's funeral. Will had been killed when they made the desperate swim across the Rio Grande to escape the Mexican gang Las Serpientes and Houston had come close to death himself. He had gone into a period of deep depression. Now though, he was apparently back to his old self.

Oakley grunted and then replied. "No. Maybe she'll at least let him look at it. Seems that she's expecting again."

The drive to the Houston ranch was a short one and the men exchanged a look. "Holy crap. This place is huge." Mark shook his head. "But duh - he's a billionaire." They both cracked up.

As Houston helped CJ out of the truck they were swarmed by two little boys who were exact replicas of their dad, right down to the mischievous smile. Their attention quickly turned to the two strangers who were being held in place by the half Blue Heeler/ half Husky named Chantilly. As the dog growled, Matt told her that they were okay and she quickly offered her paw to the pair. Both men laughed.

"Boys, y'all tell Mr. Traughber and Mr. Oakley hello and then go on back to the playground, okay? We've got some talking to do." He introduced the two as Vinnie and Mike and then gave each a playful toss and sent them back to their nanny. "Y'all come on in and let's get something cold."

Matt closed the door of the study as Chris and Mark sat on the loveseat with glasses of iced tea and CJ quietly settled into an armchair. "So what's up?" The cowboy took a long sip.

Oakley tossed a flashdrive to the PI. "Take a look at that." It was quiet as he popped the device into a laptop on the surface of the desk and looked at the images. "Damn." He saw the dates on the cases. "Two in the last week, huh?"

"Three actually. Two in the US, one in Mexico."

Matt was quiet as he read the reports associated with the first murder. A young woman - estimated to be in her late teens or early twenties - had been tied up with wire and sliced mercilessly. The second report was of a male of about the same age who had suffered the same fate.

"Any idea if they're from south of the border?"

Mark nodded. "Pretty sure. We found the bags they brought over with them - minus any ID."

"Do you think the killer took it?"

Traughber shrugged. "Possibly. There's no clear way of knowing. A lot of folks don't bring it with them." He watched as Houston nodded, looking back through the information.

"You said that there was one on the Mexican side. Any information on it?"

Chris spoke up. "You remember my friend I called on the other side of the border when we worked the officer shootings?" The reply was a nod. "He spoke to me off the record. It happened just the same way. Mexico is trying to keep it hush-hush."

Houston thought for a minute. "What about the cameras y'all have up?"

Mark fielded the question. "Neither was caught on the cameras."

Matt leaned back in the chair behind the desk and swiveled slowly, drinking more of the tea. His eyes met Oakley's. "You think they're aware of the camera locations?"

There was a shrug. "Could be. Or he could just be a lucky bastard."

Matt then looked at his wife. She hadn't had much to say on the trip over from the PH and he knew that she wasn't pleased to see the two men looking for help. Her expression was blank. Placing the glass on a coaster on the desk, he rubbed a hand over his face and looked back at her. He owed the two men sitting in front of him. They had both answered his 911 call from the other side of the border the night that Will had died. Traughber had put his boat between the Houstons and the remaining gang members placing himself in harm's way and laid down heavy fire while Chuck Wiley and Francine Martinez had dared the swift currents and gunfire to haul both men out. And Oakley had orchestrated the entire response on the US side of the border without the proper authorization. Matt didn't know until much later that both had been raked over the coals during the investigation of the happenings that night - as had Mauricio Prospero.

On the other hand, CJ had been through a lot as well because of that night. She had to step up and take care of him when he was too injured and in such a bad mental state to do so himself. The two months afterward had been hard on her as he talked to psychiatrist Roger Mullins and worked his way through the minefield of his emotions. She had been strong when he found it hard to even open his eyes or move out of their bedroom, not just from the physical wounds, but the emotional war that he was waging within.

And now she was pregnant with twins again. They already had the three little ones plus Tomás and Brian. She had her own ranch to run. Did she really need the added stress of worrying about him if he went down to Laredo again?

Matt spoke very quietly. "What do you need?"

Oakley looked first at CJ and then him. " I know you have the uh, - " He didn't want to speak aloud about the satellite. Houston had sworn him to secrecy. "The means to look closer." The statement received a nod and all three men noticed CJ relax slightly until he spoke again. "And anything else you can do."

CJ hadn't spoken a word since they had entered the study. Matt looked back to the two men. "Guys, CJ and I need a minute."

"We'll be on the back porch." Oakley stood followed by Traughber and they went out back, taking a seat on one of the swings, sipping tea and watching the two boys playing. In a minute Catey Rose arrived with Ben and joined the boys.

Traughber shook his head. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe we shouldn't have come."

Back in the study, Matt got down on his knees in front of CJ. "Babe…"

Taking a deep breath she looked down at him. "From the minute I saw the report on the news I just knew they were going to call you." She looked down where he had both of her hands in his, stroking them gently. His hands had always amazed her. They were strong - capable of wrestling cattle to the ground, doing hard work around the ranch, and knocking out a bad guy's lights. But they were tender, too. He skillfully played the guitar, worked on the computer with the speed and grace of a concert pianist, and had delivered Catey into the world and tended to their children. They had held her and soothed her through some of the best and worst times of her life.

"I owe both of them. They stuck their necks out for me - and Will. I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for them. But I owe you, too." He watched as she bit her bottom lip. "I won't do this without your blessing, Babe." Her face was fuller, rounded by the pregnancy. In his eyes she had never been more beautiful.

"Promise me that you won't cross the border."

"I won't. Actually, I don't think the folks in Mexico will let me." He hadn't meant it to be funny, just factual, but she looked up into his eyes with a slight smile on her face.

"Good. At least we can agree on that much. And you stay out of the river."

"I'll do my very best."

"Baby, are-." She ran her hand over the stubble on his face. "Are you sure that this won't bother you?" Matt had been so depressed and lost after the death of Will that she hadn't been sure if he would ever come out of it.

"It probably will bother me. But what happened with Will happened. I can't change that. It's over."

"Promise me that you'll call Roger if you need to, okay?"

"Yes ma'am. I promise." He stayed down in front of her. "I want you to promise me something: try not to worry so much. You've got those two in there depending on you." He gently rubbed her belly.

"I promise." Pulling him up, she kissed him and ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**02**

Matt held open the door for CJ as they went out onto the back porch. Chris and Mark looked up, surprised to see the couple smiling. "When do we need to head back?" Matt sat down next to CJ on the opposite swing.

"Uh-" Oakley looked at his watch. "Well, it's after four now. That would put us getting back down there about nine. Or we could just head out first thing in the morning."

"Alright. Do y'all have bags in the truck?"

"Yeah."

"Bring 'em in. We'll get you settled into a couple of rooms."  
"You don't have to do that-" Oakley began.

"Hush up and get the bags." He looked up in time to see foreman Marty Hoffmann pull up behind the house and the kids took off to meet the people emerging from the truck.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Vinnie was the first to reach Roy and Rosa Houston as Vince came around from the other side of the truck.

"So what am I? Chopped liver?" The former LAPD detective laughed as the kids attacked him.

Matt and the other two men started off of the porch as his uncle and his wife - the former Rosa Novelli - looked up.

The elder Houston took in the uniforms and held his hands in the air. "Honest, fellas. We just flew in from Hawaii."

Matt pulled his uncle into a hug and then Rosa. "Y'all are a sight for sore eyes." He leaned over and kissed Mama on the cheek before pulling Vince into a big hug.

"Apparently not: you're siccing Border Patrol on us the minute we get out of the truck." Roy shook hands with Oakley and then Traughber.

Marty was unloading luggage from the back of the truck and Matt went to help him as the kids demanded to know all about their grandparents' trip and drug them up the steps where CJ embraced them.

Once everyone was settled into their rooms and dinner was over, they sat out on the back porch watching as the kids and Matt played a game of kickball on the lawn along with Sheila, Vince, and Marty. Roy looked to Chris. "I guess you're here because of the border murders."

"Yes sir. We're heading back down in the morning."

The elder Houston looked at CJ. "Are they going alone?"

"No." She gave him a slight smile.

"You boys want a little extra help?"

Chris smiled. "We sure won't turn it down."

The group headed out the next morning with Roy and Vince riding with Matt in his crew cab Chevy. The cowboy was quiet as he thought about the goodbye that he and CJ had shared and Roy watched him thoughtfully. "I'm a little surprised you're making this trip, Mattlock." The answer was a nod. "Rosa wasn't any too thrilled that I volunteered."

From the backseat Vince piped up. "Isabella says we better all get back in one piece or else."

"Guess you'll have fun making up." Houston cut his eyes over at his uncle and gave a wolfish grin.

"There _is_ that." The older man chuckled. "So what do you think about it?"

"Not sure what to think. There's been one on the Mexican side, too. Of course they're trying to keep it hushed up."

"Naturally."

Matt got quiet again and his thoughts drifted back to his mother Carmen. From the letter that his father Wade had left for him he had learned that she had made the trip illegally across the border near El Paso. The pair had met at a bar where she was working in Lubbock about two weeks later. Matt had done some digging into her case a while back after Will had been killed and found that she had been granted asylum after giving testimony. Although the name of the party she testified against had been redacted in the record, he felt sure that it had been her brother Fernando who was just starting the gang Las Serpientes. They had a brother named Arturo and try as he might, Matt had been unable to find out what had happened to him or his grandfather Jaime. In the short few minutes he had spent with his grandmother Topsana, he hadn't had the chance to ask about the rest of the family. Given Fernando's track record, Matt figured that he had most likely killed them.

The illegal immigration situation was one that tugged at Houston's heart. On one hand he felt for the people trying to escape the gangs and drugs and those who were just looking for a better life. But the possibility of terrorists entering the country - as had been the case when he had worked with Mark Traughber the first time - was also a concern. People needed to come into the country legally after being checked out. It was a troubling situation and one that didn't have any easy answers.

From the passenger's seat Roy watched. He had a feeling that he knew what was troubling his nephew and decided to try to lighten the mood. "Rosa wants to know why you haven't been able to tell us about our new grandbabies." That brought a smile to the younger man's face.

"I don't know. I just can't get a good fix on them. First time that's happened."

"Rosa's hoping for girls."

"No doubt. She's tired of rotten little boys I guess." All three men cracked up.

It was almost 12:30 when they rolled into the Border Patrol station in Laredo. Matt slid from the truck and put on his holster, clipping the Harris County badge to the belt and adding an HCSO ball cap. As he, Vince and Roy followed the two agents into the building he looked up to see Captain Mauricio Prospero. Silently, the two men shook hands and then embraced. The captain had been thoroughly chewed out by his superiors for his approval of and participation in the rescue of the Houstons. "Good to see you." Matt clapped the man on the shoulder as he and Roy shook hands and then introduced Vince.

"How's the family?" He watched as the younger man instantly pulled out his phone and began showing pictures.

"And there's two more on the way."

"They know what causes that now." Prospero laughed. "I've got six of my own so I really can't say much." He led them down the hallway. "Got a little surprise for you." Mauricio opened the door to a conference room and Matt's eyes lit up when he saw the two people there - members of the Homeland Security team that he had worked with when he had first helped out Border Patrol.

"Y'all didn't bring Hitler with ya I hope." He first shook the hand of Susannah Temple who had been promoted to head the team right after their last case together, and then Jared Taylor.

She laughed. "No, thank God!"

"Good. We don't want Mark's hand to get hurt by McManus running his face into it again." They all laughed as they thought back to the incident when the former head of the team Reggie McManus - who had been tagged with the nickname Hitler by Matt - had acted like an ass about the help they were getting from Houston and been punched by the Border Patrol agent. The deputy had wondered if maybe he was some distant kin to the long-dead dictator. The mustache was uncannily the same. Not many people would want to look like the man who had sent so many innocents to their deaths.

Matt introduced Vince and Roy. Everyone took a seat and got serious as Prospero turned on a large monitor at the front of the room. "I know most of you have seen the files on these cases. Maybe going over them together can help us shed a little light on it." He clicked the keyboard. "The first we encountered was a young female…" He went on to cover the little that was known about the young woman. As he got to the pictures of how she was bound, Matt asked him to zoom in.

"That looks like fencing wire."

"The crime scene folks agree." Prospero proceeded to the case of the young man. "The wire is identical in both of these cases according to them." He brought up the photo of the young woman's hands and feet bound together next to a similar photo of the young man. Deep gouges had been cut into their flesh as they struggled to get free - the tops of the young man's wrists were down to the bone. Both had extensive stab wounds over their bodies that looked like they had been tortured before their necks were sliced open.

"Exactly the same." Houston blew out a breath. "Where was each of the bodies found?"

The captain loaded a map showing the locations of both. "You can see how overgrown it is in both areas. No way our cameras can penetrate that. Plus they've been giving us some problems lately."

Houston nodded silently. "Where was the one on the Mexican side?"

"Here." Prospero moved the map only slightly. "Less than two clicks. They've all been fairly close together."

The cowboy looked to Agent Temple. "Are you working on the chatter angle?"

She nodded. "My specialty. Nothing so far."

Traughber had a feeling that he knew what the next words from the cowboy's mouth would be and was watching the man as he turned to look at him.

"Can we use your boat?"

"Yup." The group took that as the signal to rise. Matt turned to Roy. "I need to talk to you, Chris and Vince. Mark, I'll meet you in the parking lot in about five minutes, okay?"

"I'll go top off the tanks." Nodding, the BP agent walked from the room.

Prospero approached. "You've got your old office back." He gave a grim smile.

"I appreciate it." Matt led the way down the hall to the small office that he and Oakley had spent so much time in. Turning to look at the other men, he tried to figure out exactly how to approach the subject. "Vince, close that door, please." Once it was done he leaned against the desk. "Y'all know that sometimes I can see things before they happen." The group collectively nodded. "Well, there's been a little addition." Quietly, he explained how he had twice been able to see what happened to a murder victim by touching hair that had been left in their brushes.

Roy was the first to find his voice. "Mattlock, that's amazing."

"When it happens…" He blushed a bright red. "I kind of - well, I almost pass out." There was another nod from the group. "What I'm getting at is if it happens I need one of y'all with me. Michael was with me the first time and Francine the second. I didn't actually hit the floor or anything, but if somebody hadn't been there I might have. And I'm not saying that it will happen. I just don't know."

Vince put a hand on his shoulder. "We've got your back, Ace."

"Okay. Mark doesn't know about it and I would prefer nobody else did either. It's embarrassing as hell."

"No problem." Oakley nodded his agreement.

Next he turned his attention to his uncle. "Uncle Roy, please don't get mad at me. But I think it would be better if you stay here for this trip." He watched warily as the statement sunk in. "You can ask Chris; when it goes bad out there it happens in a hurry. And I'd hate to lose my best advisor."

Roy at first looked angered and then after looking at both Vince and Chris who nodded their agreement gave a curt nod.

"I think your intelligence experience would be better suited to using the satellite and scanning the areas where this jerk has hit. See if you can spot anything. And see if you might be able to figure out where he might hit next."

"Alright." He looked to the other two. "You boys take care of him out there, you understand?" There was a bit of emotion in his voice and both nodded, knowing that he was thinking of how he had lost Will and how close he had come to losing Matt.

"We've got him, Roy." Vince squeezed his arm. They started out of the room. "And behave yourself with that young lady in there. I'd hate to have to give a bad report to Mama."

"Humph…" Roy shot him a look as the others snickered and Matt handed over the laptop to him, receiving a tight hug. "I expect to hear from you ASAP, boy."

"Yes sir." Not feeling like it in the least, Matt gave him a smile and strode from the room and went out to the truck where he and Vince donned bulletproof vests and the former cop added a holster and pistol. He stole a look at Houston as he checked the magazine in his Glock; the detective was trying to keep his emotions in check. Vince froze as his friend reached behind the vest and into the front pocket of his shirt, then closed his eyes and bowed his head before crossing himself - something he had never witnessed the man do before. Quickly, he looked back at the bag in front of him and zipped it up, trying to give his buddy a minute of privacy.

"You ready?" Houston had a no-nonsense tone.

"Yup." He shut the back door of the truck as Matt closed the front and they turned to meet up with Chris and Mark.


	3. Chapter 3

**03**

Houston, Novelli, and Oakley were all seated inside the boat while Mark backed it down the launch to the river. As they started southward, Vince glanced at his buddy whose face was now completely emotionless. _Ah hah, the poker face has kicked in._ He inwardly laughed.

The trip down to the first crime scene was a little less than six and a half miles on the water and Oakley leaned over toward Matt, drawing his attention to a spot on the Mexican side. "That's where the other body was found."

"Let's see if we can check it out on the way back." Houston casually looked at the area where he could see a truck from the Federales parked nearby. They apparently were keeping an eye on the scene. "Or maybe not. When did that one happen in relation to the other two?"

"In between. There was victim number one, then three days later the one in Mexico, and then the next day our second."

"So if he hits on the other side next he might have a pattern."

"Could be."

They arrived at the first scene in a matter of minutes. Mark edged the boat into the bank and picked up the AR-15 and looked toward the other side of the river. Matt, Vince, and Chris climbed the slope and silently looked down at the spot on the ground - now a mass of dried blood and dirt - with a circumference of approximately four feet where the young woman had been found.

Houston began walking around the area looking at the ground for any sign of hair, all the while knowing that it had already been scoured by agents and techs alike. Checking over his shoulder to find Mark still watching the river he knelt down and after removing a glove, touched the earth and blood. Nothing happened. He stood up and went back toward the boat giving Vince a negative shake of the head as he saw the question in his eyes.

They boarded and Mark cranked the engine. The ride to the next scene was about a mile further south and as Matt looked at the area on his phone he felt a chill go over him. They were less than eight miles from where he and Will had made that desperate swim. Vince and Chris had both been watching him closely and saw the shiver. Matt looked skyward and silently thought about that night again.He drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Mark pulled into the shore and once again the three men clambered up the slippery bank. This area was even more overgrown than the last. Houston once again knelt down beside the bloodied ground, touched it, and came away with nothing before beginning to circle the small clearing. On the western side something caught his eye. A quick inspection showed a few strands of hair on a branch and he checked to make sure once again that Mark's back was turned. Going down on one knee, he touched the hair and just as he had experienced before, there was a flash of bright light before darkness took hold. Vince saw him jerk and edged closer and watched as his pupils dilated.

Matt felt himself crouch down in the brush with his clothes in his hands. He was wearing nothing but a badly worn pair of sneakers and his heart pounded in his chest. Someone was shining a light in his face and he heard the words in Spanish: _Get out of there. Now._ It was a man's voice and the accent was odd, certainly not that of a native speaker. He slowly stood and edged out of the bushes wishing that he could have at least gotten his jeans on before being discovered. He spoke timidly. _Necesito asilo, por favor._ The answer was a rude laugh and he felt as taser barbs hit his chest and a jolt of electricity flowed into him, dropping him onto the ground and knocking him senseless. The next thing that he knew he had been gagged and his hands and feet were being tied together in front of him. He listened desperately, hoping to hear the other group that he had followed across the river. The only sounds were from the wildlife along the banks. While he struggled against the wire that was cutting into his arms, his captor was looking at a small computer and he could see very little of his face aside from the round glasses that reflected the light issuing from the screen. The machine was closed with a snap and put into a backpack, the area growing darker without the small amount of light from the screen.

"Time's up, _amigo_." The voice sounded gleeful as the young man tried to scream, but the gag in his mouth prevented nearly all sound from escaping. Next there was pain all along his back as he felt a blade make numerous slashes across his skin. The man worked his way down his buttocks, the backs of his legs, and then the soles of his feet. His fingers were slashed, then his arms, his face, and then the last thing he saw was the blade and then the bright stars overhead shining down through the tree limbs as his attacker grabbed a fistful of hair. The killer painfully jerked his neck backwards and cut his throat. Everything went black.

Houston immediately broke out in a sweat as the brush in front of him came back into focus. His breathing was ragged and his heart was pounding so hard he couldn't hear Vince as he knelt down next to him. The lips were moving, but no sound was making it through to him. The former cop opened a bottle of water and held it up for him to take a drink. Slowly, his heart rate decreased and he could hear as Oakley and Traughber were quietly talking behind him.

"Getting better?" Vince took a quick look back toward the boat to find that Chris had engaged Mark in conversation speculating where the killer might strike next and pointing out possible areas on the foreign side of the river.

Matt nodded and took the bottle, downing almost all of it before getting back on his feet. His knees were shaking as he took a few deep calming breaths. Pointing toward the eastern side of the clearing he spoke quietly. "He came from that direction. But he used a taser. We need to look for AFIDs."

Vince nodded and both began searching the ground. The former cop looked a little further toward the northern part of the brush and gave an exclamation. "There." He took a couple of pictures of the find with his phone, noticing that the killer had attempted to bury the evidence by scuffing dirt on top of the tiny pieces.

Matt put on a pair of nitrile gloves and put the tiny confetti-like pieces into an evidence bag. Both men knew that the Anti-Felon Identification tags were ejected when a taser was deployed. Each tiny AFID was labelled with a serial number that could be tracked down to the person to whom the taser cartridge had been issued. "Chris…"

The Homeland Security agent turned and hoofed it up the bank when he saw that Houston was holding an evidence bag. "What is it?"

"AFIDs." Matt handed over the bag and Oakley swore as he looked at them. "Man, this could blow this wide open. If we can match up the ID numbers on here…"

"Yup." Houston felt his knees beginning to settle down. "We're going to look toward the east." He gave the agent a nod as he said it.

Oakley lowered his voice. "Are you alright?" The answer was a nod from the white face. "Okay. We'll stay here. Holler if you need us." He patted the detective on the back.

"Alright. Let's go see what we can see." Vince kept a hand on his shoulder as they moved, giving Oakley a nod as he gave a questioning look.

Closing his eyes, Matt thought back through what he had seen and tried to pinpoint the spot where the killer had emerged from the brush. When he opened them he looked closely at the branches and noticed where a few had been broken and pointed them out to Vince. "Get some pictures, would you?" The voice sounded strained to the former detective and he nodded, removing his phone and snapping photos of the disturbances while Matt squatted down. "The only tracks here have been from shoes with carpet on them. That's what a lot of folks do when they cross."

"Makes sense. Keeps from getting a clear impression of the shoes." Vince nodded again and snapped pictures, then watched as Matt spread his hand out over the partial print.

"Maybe a nine or ten. Hard to tell with the carpet."

"Not to be a naysayer, but how do we know that this is from the killer? You said yourself that's how folks cover their tracks when they sneak in."

Houston didn't say anything for a few seconds as he took in more of the area. "I could be wrong. But I don't think so. It seems to me that they came into and out of the clearing." Standing, he followed the tracks to the east and then swung sharply north. He stopped once again and pulled the tiny camera out of one of the cargo pockets on his pants. Turning it on, he began taking video of the tracks that came out of the brush and went along the dirt trail that was often used by Border Patrol agents as they made their rounds. They led to a makeshift boat launch. Right next to a set of tire tracks the carpeted tracks ended - and a pair of clear shoe impressions took their place. Once again, Houston held out his hand over the track and measured. "About a size nine." The two friends exchanged a look as Matt turned off the camera, removed the phone again and asked Chris Oakley to have someone come to their location to take photos and impressions of the tracks. After ending the call, Matt let out a big breath.

In just a couple of minutes the pair could hear the patrol boat as it moved into the shore at the launch. While Mark remained on board, Chris came up the steep hill and carefully watched where he walked. "Show me." He stared in amazement as Houston showed him the clear prints of a newer pair of what looked like hiking boots.

"He sat there in his vehicle and strapped the carpet on." He showed the agent the tracks leading into and out of the brush.

Oakley lowered his voice. "So you...you know - " He motioned with his hands and looked amazed as the answer was a nod.

"There was some of his hair in the bushes. He was hiding." Matt went on and told the pair exactly what the victim had seen, felt, and ultimately how he died in agony. Although he looked angry, he was speaking calmly.

"So I guess it didn't bother you?" Chris searched the man's face.

"It did, but not as bad as it has been."

"Guess that's a good thing, though."

"Not sure. I'd hate to think that I could ever get used to something like that." With a sorrowful look Matt headed down to the river and stood throwing rocks into the water. 


	4. Chapter 4

**04**

Matt led the techs along the path that their killer had taken as they processed the findings, ending up back in the clearing. He waited until everyone had their backs turned and removed the hair from the branch with the tip of his knife and stuffed it into a small evidence bag. It wasn't going to help the techs any. As the group hiked back out to the launch Matt, Vince, and Chris went back down to the boat and silently boarded. Although they had planned to try to get in close to the site on the Mexican side of the border they decided against it as there were now two vehicles watching the area. It was almost 6:30 when they trailered the boat and rode back to the station.

Roy stood outside watching as car after car went through the checkpoint and was relieved when Mark stopped to drop off his passengers.

Matt spoke to the officer. "Thanks, bud. Guess we'll see you in the morning."

"Alright. 'Night." Mark dropped the truck into gear again and went to put the boat back in its place as the other three stopped to talk with the elder Houston.

"You boys had quite an afternoon. I propose we find some supper and something to drink."

"Sounds like a good idea. I could use a shower, too." Vince made a face.

Matt nodded, not saying anything and walked to the truck followed by the other three.

Roy slid into the front passenger seat. "CJ got us rooms at La Posada."

Finally his nephew spoke. "Good. Let's go hit up the Tack Room." He drove the short distance to the hotel where they checked in, took their bags upstairs, and then went back down to the restaurant.

After satisfying their hunger, the group went up to the suite that was Houston's and kicked back in the living area. After removing the gunbelt, Matt next went around the bar and looked in the refrigerator. "Anybody want a beer?" All agreed and he removed four bottles and handed them out before sitting down on the couch next to Vince and popping the top. After downing a long swig he pulled out his phone and called to check up on CJ.

"Are you boys behaving?" She had just tucked the kids into bed and was going out onto the back porch.

"Yes ma'am. How about y'all?"

"It's been a busy day. Vinnie and Mike are protesting: they think they should get to ride Cricket by themselves, too."

"I wondered how long that would take." He chuckled. "What about you?"

"I always behave."

"Uh huh. I know better." The tone of his voice caused the other three to exchange a look and roll their eyes. "We're about to have a pow wow here and bring Uncle Roy up to date on what we found. Are you going to be up for a while?"

"Sure. Just call me."

"I will. Talk to you in a little bit. Love you."

"Love you, sweetie. 'Bye." She hung up and looked out at the sky. Vince had called her earlier while Matt was leading the crime scene techs back through the brush and told her what had happened. They had talked the night before and he had agreed to keep her informed about how Matt was taking the return to the river.

Back in Laredo, the three younger men filled Roy in on the happenings. He looked to his nephew who continued to sip the beer and was staring at the boot that was propped on his right knee.

"What happened with the hair?"

Matt pulled a small evidence bag out of his pocket. "Didn't figure the techs would need it - especially since they didn't find it the first time through." He looked at the strands of shiny black hair and wondered what the young man had looked like before the blade sliced away his features. "What about you? Any luck with the satellite?"

"Not really. The areas where this idiot has hit are in brush. But the fact that we now know that he's definitely driving a vehicle is a plus."

Vince took a swig and nodded. "The tires come back as Michelin Premier LTX. They're used a lot on crossovers and light SUVs."

Matt stood up and went over to the bar for the computer and returned, pulling up Goggle Maps and looking at the area on the Mexican side where the body had been found. "There's a little race course just beyond where the body was. He could have easy access to the area by car."

Vince leaned over and looked. "Sure could. What about where the female was found?"

Matt moved his focus. "Easy access there, too. Dirt roads, but not a problem to drive on."

Roy and Chris exchanged a look. "Especially in a crossover or SUV." Both spoke at the same time.

As he zoomed out and looked at the map a feeling came over Matt.

"What is it?" Roy watched the expression on his face change.

"Nothing." He took a long swig of the beer. "I think tomorrow we need to take a look back through the surveillance along the roads in that area - see if there have been any vehicles that might possibly be our guy's that have spent a lot of time cruising down there."

Chris nodded. "Casing it."

"Yup."

The agent drank down more beer. "And hope like hell he doesn't hit again tonight."

Vince held up his bottle. "I'll drink to that." The other three nodded and answered his toast.

Roy and Oakley were staying in rooms on either side of the suite that Matt and Vince were sharing. After they left, Vince hit the shower and Matt went back behind the bar and popped the top on another beer before going out on the balcony to call CJ back. "Hey."

"How are you, sweetie?"

He sighed. "I'm here." He took a drink.

"So tell me exactly what happened." She sat on the back porch swing with her legs tucked up under her and looked up at the big Texas sky filled with stars as he related the events. He drank more beer and both were quiet for a minute. "It doesn't seem to be having as much of a physical impact on you as it has before."

"Yeah. But why do I feel guilty about that?"

"Why should you be punished by it, Matt? You haven't done anything wrong."

"I don't know. It just…" He didn't know what to say. "I'm afraid."

"Okay. It's good that you can put a word to it. What exactly about it makes you afraid?"

"Will it get to the point that it doesn't make me feel anymore?"

"There's a difference between physically feeling something and having an emotional feeling about something."

He drank more of the beer as he thought about what she had just said and remained quiet.

"Let's look at it. Were you standing or sitting when you touched the hair on the previous two times?"

"Sitting the first time and standing the second."

"And today?"

"Kneeling." He thought about it. "So maybe it didn't hit me as hard physically because…"

"Because your body was slightly more relaxed. It wasn't having to work as hard to pump the blood to your brain for one thing."

"Yeah. But after that first time it was bad when I got back to the office."

"Yes - and you were reliving it again telling Hoyt about it - and you were standing behind the bar at the time, right?"

"Yeah."

"But emotionally you felt it just as hard today as before, didn't you?"

"Yeah." More beer was consumed. "Have you been talking to Roger?"

"No."

"You sound a lot like him tonight."

She smiled and lowered her voice to imitate the psychiatrist. "You mean like this?"

"Funny." He smiled. "Thanks."

"That's why I'm here. Partners in crime, right?"

"Yep." The beer was now emptied and he began peeling the label.

"Now, Dr. CJ is prescribing a nice shower and then a little time in the jacuzzi."

"You knew that was in there?"

"Yep. Thought it might help to relax you."

A grin went across his face. "I would relax even more if you were here."

"Ah, maybe so; but then would any work get done?" She gave one of the laughs that made his heart skip a beat.

His voice took on a husky tone. "Lady, do you have any idea of what you do to me?" He had never told her how much that sound meant to him.

Speaking in a sultry voice she replied, "I can think of a few things I would _love_ to do to you. But that will have to wait until you get back."

"Damn." Both laughed. "Well, guess I'll go take the cure that my doc prescribed."

"Don't forget to wash behind your ears."

"Love you, Babe."

"Love you, Cowboy. 'Night."


	5. Chapter 5

**05**

When the Houstons, Vince, and Oakley arrived at the station the next morning Mauricio Prospero had left word for them to come immediately to the conference room. As they entered the atmosphere was tense. Matt was the first to speak. "Tell me he didn't hit last night."

"Not that we know of…" Prospero took a seat and motioned to Susannah Temple.

The Homeland Security agent was doing her best to keep her emotions in check. "We got the results back on the AFIDs."

Houston and the others took seats and looked across at her expectantly. "And?" He took the paper that she passed across the table to him and began to read. "There's no way in hell…" Looking back up at the agent he couldn't believe his eyes. "You know damn well that Mark Traughber wouldn't do this crap." Anger was starting to seep into his voice and Roy exchanged a worried look with Vince.

"The ID numbers are assigned to him." Prospero looked shaken.

"Where is he?" Houston stood up.

"I've got him in an interrogation room." The captain led the way down the hall. Roy followed along hoping that he wouldn't have to keep his nephew from losing his temper. When the three men entered, Traughber's face was a study in fear and anger and he jumped to his feet as they entered.

"Just what the hell kind of bullshit are you guys trying to pull?" He looked between his boss and Houston.

"I'm not pulling anything. Sit down." Matt leaned against the wall.

"Like hell-"

"Sit." Prospero's voice told the sergeant that complying was mandatory.

Houston looked the man in the eyes. "Mark, the AFIDs came back to your cartridge."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No." He watched as the sergeant slammed a fist on the table. "Tell me about your taser. Have you had any problems with it?"

"Just…" Traughber's voice shook and he paused to take a deep breath. "Just normal wear and tear."

"What about cartridges? Have you lost any?"

"No."

"Had any malfunctions?"

"Sure. Everybody does from time to time."

"Tell me about the last time."

"It was about two months ago. I got into a tussle with a couple of guys that we were bringing in and one of them went for my taser. It got slammed on the deck of the boat pretty hard and the blast doors on the cartridge in it got knocked off."

"And you turned it in?"

"Yeah. We're accountable for every cartridge."

Houston looked to Prospero. "Do you have a record of that?"

Traughber angrily jumped back to his feet. "What kind of game are you playing?"

"I'm not playing anything. I'm trying to prove that you didn't do this crap. Sit down and shut up."

The pair stared at each other for a few seconds before he slowly sat back down.

"I've got the records in my office." Prospero left the room and the two men stared at each other.

In Spanish Matt asked, "Have you had any problems with anyone in the last few months?"

Traughber automatically replied in well-accented Spanish that he had not.

Houston breathed a big sigh and nodded, giving him a smile. He had learned from the vision that the killer had a bad Spanish accent and likely didn't speak the language often.

"What's the deal with the Spanish?" Mark looked between Houston and his uncle.

"Trust me on this, okay?" All trace of anger was gone from the detective's voice.

Prospero came back into the room looking much relieved. "It's on the defective list. Mark, I'm sorry. I should have checked that first thing. It just-" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry."

"So does that mean we can quit wasting time in here and go find the bastard or what?"

"C'mon." Matt opened the door and all of them went to the conference room and informed the others of what had been discovered. As he paced around the room, the detective looked to Prospero. "Who else would have access to the cartridges?"

"Well…" He thought it over. "We usually don't ship them back to the manufacturer until we have several. They go into storage in the armory."

"How many people have access to that?"

"One person per shift - three shifts plus alternates - six people."

"We need to interview them."

Traughber spoke up. "Damn straight." He settled down after Prospero gave him an angry look.

The group split up over the next few hours: Houston and Prospero interviewed the six people who were in charge of the armory. Vince and Oakley started going through the surveillance from the cameras to check for anyone in a crossover vehicle that was spending an inordinate amount of time in the areas where bodies had been found. Roy continued to work with the satellite and Temple and Taylor were continuing to monitor the chatter on the border.

Matt was about to give up the interviews as a waste of time until Sergeant Consuela Benevides suddenly remembered a vital piece of information. "Captain, the only thing that I can think of that was out of the ordinary with the cartridges was the shipment that got lost."

"A shipment got lost?" Houston sat up straight.

"Yes sir. We sent a batch back to the manufacturer and it never made it."

"Which carrier?"

"Urban Express."

"Do you have the records on it?"

"Yes sir. They're in the armory."

Prospero stood up. "Let's go get them."

The trio went down the hallway to the armory where weapons were checked in and out at the end and beginning of every shift. Benevides led them back to a filing cabinet at the back of the large room and began looking through shipping receipts. "Here it is!" She pulled the paper and handed it to the captain who in turn handed it to the detective.

Back inside the little office Matt took over control of the laptop from Roy and looked up the carrier's tracking number. It never showed the package as being in the system. He looked up at Prospero who was leaning in the doorway. "Are these picked up by Urban Express or are they put in a drop box?"

"They pick them up."

"Where?"

"The front desk."

"Let's go take a look." He followed the older man out front. There was a crowd of people stopping in to ask questions about traveling across the border, passports, visas, and other concerns. Matt spied a stack of boxes on the counter and he and Prospero approached. The detective reached over and picked up the stack of three boxes about the size of a loaf of bread each. They quietly walked away and the captain looked embarrassed.

"One of those is a return of taser cartridges." He was fuming. "From now on, they will be kept behind the counter until the driver shows up."

"Don't suppose you have any video of that day, do you?"

"Two months ago? No."

"Well, at least we know how it most likely disappeared."

Matt returned to the office and sat down at the desk opposite his uncle and quietly watched him. The death of Will had been hard on them all, but for Roy - who had already thought his son dead once before - it had been devastating. Although he didn't sink into a deep depression like Matt, it had taken a toll on him. There were a few more wrinkles on the elder Houston's face and periods of silence were more frequent. Since their reunion Matt had noticed that he was more emotional than he used to be. Was it due to what had happened with Will or was it just age? Who knew?

"Boy, is there some particular reason why you're staring at me? Maybe a case of tie envy?" He looked up over the laptop's screen with the same penetrating gaze that his nephew remembered.

"Tie envy? Good Lord…" The younger man shook his head and chuckled. "I'm not even wearing a tie."

"Exactly."

"I'm in uniform."

"Not my fault." He gave a satisfied smirk as his nephew rolled his eyes. "So? Why were you staring at me then - if not for tie envy?"

"No reason. Just thinking about what's going on and zoned out I guess."

"It's a wonder you won all that money playing poker - you suck at lying."

Matt quickly changed the subject. "We figured out how the taser cartridges got taken." He filled in the older man.

"Guess that's one screw up you can't blame on the delivery guy, huh?" Roy went back to the computer and switched to looking at the Mexican side of the river.

"Yep." Matt leaned back in the chair and propped his feet up. "So Mark is in the clear-"

"Damn." The elder Houston waved his nephew around the desk. "We've got a big problem."

Matt leaned over and looked at the screen. "Son of a bitch. What are the GPS coordinates?"

"27.3915135 and -99.493917,132."

He pulled out his phone and punched in the numbers. "Shit." Heaving a sigh, he patted Roy on the shoulder. "Good find. Guess I better go let the others know."

"What about the Federales?"

"Haven't figured that out just yet."


	6. Chapter 6

**06**

Mauricio Prospero stood in the bow of the boat with Houston as Chris Oakley stood on the stern waiting to drop the anchor while Mark steered them downstream. Vince leaned with a hand on the console, keeping a close eye on Houston. The best cover story that they could come up with was that they were making their way downriver and just happened to spy the scene as they were passing by - which hopefully the Federales would buy.

They stopped in front of the scene and Chris dropped anchor. While Prospero called the number for his counterpart in the Mexican government, Matt pulled out the little camera that he had developed with Derwin Dunlap and began taking shots of it. Zooming in, he could tell that the victim had been a female. The mutilation of the body was unbelievably worse than the two that they had encountered on the US side. Matt was hoping that the Mexican officials would be willing to share their files on the other case since the American group had found this scene.

After shooting as many pictures as he could, he pocketed the camera and they waited. Ten minutes went by, then thirty. All five men were sweating profusely in the heat, and Vince quietly cursed.

Matt was wishing that the foreign government officials would get there and they could get on with it. Ever since the boat had been stopped, he had the feeling that he was being watched and kept telling himself that it was most likely a member of Las Serpientes doing his duty keeping an eye on Border Patrol. His mind was also struggling with a thought that had kept him awake for most of the night before.

In the predawn hours when he had finally given up trying to sleep, he brewed a pot of coffee and sat on the balcony. While he sipped and watched the stars reflecting on the Rio Grande, the thought kept creeping into his mind: each scene that they were going to was drawing him closer to the place where Will had been killed by a cut to his throat from the glass of the exploded Toyota pickup that had been their escape vehicle.

The cowboy kept going through that horrible night in his head, much as he had when the depression had landed on him like an elephant stepping on an ant those few months back. His promise to CJ came back to him and he wondered if he should call Roger.

When the sun started to edge up on the eastern horizon he had hit the bottom of the coffee pot and was joined by Vince. "Up early, huh?" The former cop had found the coffee pot hot but empty and knew that his friend had most likely been up for hours. He had brewed another pot.

"Uh huh."

"Want a refill?"

"Sure."

"As much coffee as you drink it's a damn wonder you don't pee every two minutes." The look he received set him off on a fit of first snickers and then full out laughter.

Houston finally smiled and shook his head. "Trade secret of the private investigator, pard."

"Uh huh - tell some fool that will believe it." Novelli sat down and looked out toward the river, the pair enjoying a companionable silence as the coffee cups were emptied. "I'm hungry. Let's get some breakfast." Clapping his friend on the shoulder, he headed back into the suite.

That had been almost six hours ago. It was nearly noon and now Matt sat staring at the river again.

Traughber had the AR15 slung over his shoulder and was watching the area intently. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

The Border Patrol agent had a seat on the gunwale. "Lie much?"

Matt's head snapped around. "Huh?"

"Something's eating at you."

"Nah. I'm good."

"I tell you what: if I had been through the crap on this river that you have-" There was a pause. "I probably would have told Oakley and me to go to hell when we showed up on your doorstep."

Matt chuckled. "I owe you guys."

"Not as far as I'm concerned. We're even. You were the reason we got the bastard that killed Elena and Bates. I owed you."

"No. I was just doing my job."

"And so was I."

"Not exactly. From what I heard y'all got reamed over it."

"Oh well - not the first time and probably not the last." Both men looked over as there was a chuckle from Prospero.

Everyone in the boat tensed as a motor could be heard and each stood ready when a truck pulled up on the bank and two Mexican agents stepped out. The first agent out of the truck drew in a sharp breath. _"Madre de Dios."_ He looked out to the men on the boat and carefully made his way around the scene. He now spoke in English. "Which of you found her?"

"We all did." Prospero held out his hand in greeting. "Captain Mauricio Prospero."

"Sergeant Manuel Garcia." The pair shook and he looked back as his partner was calling for their supervisor and investigators. "Did you come up and take a look?"

"No."

"I'm sure my _jefe_ will ask: how did you locate the young lady?"

Prospero spoke up again. "We were working our way down the river searching for the killer. He has hit twice on our side of the border."

"I heard that." He looked back over his shoulder at the other officer that was giving the group an angry look. "May I come aboard?"

"Of course." Prospero stepped back as the man hopped onto the bow. He looked around at the group, his eyes landing on Houston. "Señor Houston?"

"Yes sir." Matt nodded.

"_Gracias por sacar Diego Mendoza."_ He saw the surprise on the American's face. "He was responsible for the deaths of three of my cousins."

Matt's voice was very quiet. "I'm sorry."

"I understand that he was your cousin and that he killed your grandmother?" He watched as Matt nodded. "And the man that was killed during the escape was also your cousin?"

"Yes sir."

"My condolences." Garcia turned as his companion approached and told him that the commander would be along as quickly as possible and not to touch a thing, the last being said with another angry look directed at the Americans. Garcia turned his attention to Houston again. "Have you been able to gather any information on who is doing this?"

Matt shook his head. "Not yet."

After pulling something out of his shirt pocket, Garcia shook hands with Prospero, passing a card as he did so. Then, looking back at Matt once again he said, "Señor Houston, not everyone on this side of the border bears you animosity. You have some supporters."

Matt had noticed the transfer to the captain and passed across one of his own cards under the cover of another handshake. "I appreciate that. We're working hard to figure out who is doing this."

The sound of another engine approaching got everyone's attention and the agent gave him a brief smile before going back up on the bank. They waited as an angry looking lieutenant stalked toward the crime scene and looked down disgustedly at the girl and then the men in the boat. "Did you come on shore?"

"No." Prospero spoke for the group again.

"And your name?" He jotted down the information as the captain gave it. Looking back up, it was apparent that he recognized Houston and gave another look of disdain. "We will contact you if we have further questions. You may go."

Mark went back to the console after Prospero nodded at him. Mumbling under his breath, the sergeant turned the key and the engines came to life. "Arrogant bastard." They pulled away from the scene and after some consultation, went back to the northern side of the river and slowly traveled along the bank, Matt keenly aware once more that he was being watched. Looking back over his shoulder he saw the lieutenant talking on his phone and glaring at the group.

Vince now stood next to his buddy. "That lieutenant is a verifiable asshole."

"Yup." As hot as he was, Houston strangely found himself chilled to the bone at the same time.

Lowering his voice where only Matt could hear, the former cop asked, "You alright? Kinda looking pale, Ace."

"Yeah, fine."

Mauricio Prospero took a seat on the bow, removed his cap, and wiped the sweat off his brow. "Traughber, take us back." He motioned for Houston and the detective moved that way, bracing himself as the boat began the trip back up the river. After writing down the information from the card that the Mexican sergeant had given him, Mauricio handed it over to Matt. "I think he intended for you to have this. So what do you think?"

"I think we need to catch this son of a bitch." They were passing the scene where there was yet another truck and Matt looked over on the US side of the river, noticing that one of the surveillance cameras was in sight. He tapped Prospero on the shoulder and pointed at it.

The captain nodded. "We'll take a look at the footage when we get back." He gave the detective a grim smile.

Back at the station Matt removed the vest that he had been wearing while out on the river then hit the restroom and leaned over one of the sinks splashing his face with cold water.

"You keep on and you're going to be wrinkled up like a raisin." Vince watched as his friend jumped.

"Trying to cool off a little bit." The answer was followed by one more splash before Matt grabbed for some paper towels and began drying off. After finishing, he caught the look that Vince was giving him. "What?"

"Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Did you see something out there? Because you went almost as white as you did yesterday."

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing." Grabbing the vest, he walked out of the restroom and down the hall to the office where Roy was seated. "Let me see that for a minute."

Roy passed the computer across to him and watched as he looked at the satellite image on the screen before pushing it back across to his uncle and walking back outside as Vince and the older man looked at each other.

"Keep an eye on him." The elder Houston had noticed his nephew's pale complexion and watched as Vince nodded and slipped out of the door and shadowed his friend outside the station where he was placing a call.

Matt looked up, saw him, and then spoke into the phone. "Babe, I need some help."

"What's going on, Cowboy?" Back in Houston, CJ left the kitchen and went into the study, closing the door while the sounds of the kids playing drifted through the air. Listening as he explained, she sat down behind the desk. "That lieutenant sounds like a real jerk."

He put the phone on speaker. "Yeah, you can say that again." He began working on a text message.

"What were the coordinates of the scene?"

"I just texted them to you."

She found them on the map. The first thing that came to mind as she looked where Roy had plotted the locations of the other murders was that they were all heading downriver toward the area where Matt and Will had made their escape to the US.

He spoke again. "Babe…" He paused, not wanting to sound like a raving lunatic. "Does it seem like-"

"Matt, I think this guy is leading us to El Cenizo." She heard a long exhalation of breath on the other end of the line.

"So maybe I'm not losing my mind."

She heard the upset and pain in his voice. "Definitely not." Neither spoke for a minute. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

Matt sat down on a planter and ran a hand across his face as he explained the chill that he had felt while out on the river. Vince sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "So I'm trying to figure out if the way I'm feeling is because of fear or if it's - ya know - the other trying to kick in and tell me something."

"Maybe both? Really - no one could blame you for being apprehensive about going back to El Cenizo. And maybe your-" She paused, looking for the right term. "Maybe your vision is sending out a warning, too."

"You think so?"

"It makes sense, hon."

"Good." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

What she said next was uncharacteristic of her. "Tell you what: since it appears that's what this son of a bitch is trying to do, let's put the satellite on a sweep pattern between the scene today and El Cenizo."

"That's a good idea. And I'm going to plant some critters."

"No." Vince shook his head. "I'm going to plant some critters. You're not going down there unless it's absolutely necessary."


	7. Chapter 7

**07**

Vince drove Matt's truck down the dirt road alongside the Rio Grande with Oakley riding shotgun and a supply of the tiny BugBytes surveillance cameras that the PI referred to as critters sitting on the console.

Chris shot a look at the man driving. They hadn't talked much, but he and Houston were really tight - anyone that saw the pair could tell that right off the bat. "How long have you known Houston?"

There was an immediate smile. "Let's see...he's been a pain in my ass for about a decade now. And my brother from another mother for almost that long."

"So you used to be with LAPD?"

"Yep. You know Michael Hoyt, right? Well, he was my replacement. I had to call it quits after two idiots opened fire on me. Had to take a medical retirement. They shot my spleen all to hell. Lost it. Damaged my pancreas and made me diabetic. Nicked my liver, too - but that wasn't as big of a problem." He thought back to that awful day and how much guilt Houston still felt over what had happened - even though all of the Novellis had told him it could have just as easily been him. "Houston was right there with me when it happened. We had been on a stakeout all night. I would probably be sitting on a cloud playing a harp and singing off key right now if he hadn't been there." He gave a smirk and both men laughed and then the former cop got serious. "But I'm worried about him."

"Yeah. I - I probably shouldn't have asked him to come help with this." Oakley looked out through the trees at the river flowing by, sparkling in the sunshine.

Novelli considered what Matt and CJ had discussed a short time earlier on the phone. "I've got news for you: I think the son of a bitch we're chasing wanted him brought in - and so do Houston and CJ."

There was a look between the pair. "Seriously?"

"Look at it. The murders have been leap-frogging down the river - right toward El Cenizo. That's why we're putting these little buggers out." He tapped on the box. "CJ was right. Hopefully we can catch him on camera. And keep Matt from having to go down there."

Chris thought back. "That was an awful night. And we were on the US side. It sounded like a damn war going on over there. We could hear them coming for a few minutes before they made the river." A beep went off from the computer that the Homeland Security agent was holding. "Stop number one."

Vince cut the engine on the side of the road and the pair got out. Oakley pulled a ladder out of the bed of the truck and leaned it against a tree, climbing up about ten feet and popping one of the cameras on the bark while Vince activated it. After a little adjustment to the position he put another one facing the river. The pair went back to the truck and went on down to the next stop that Matt and CJ had plotted together.

On the twelfth and final stop - the river bank at El Cenizo - they sat in the truck for a minute. Vince had never been there. He relived his part of that terrible day as he looked out at the beautiful scenery. Matt had sent him to San Francisco to be sure that Tomás was safe and he had left the teen at the private school after the pair had talked for a minute on the phone. The plane - Houston's G-550 - was still on the waiting list for refueling when Vince returned to the airport. It had been over an hour and a half before he could take off and head back down to Texas. Between delays due to the weather and air traffic control, he had landed just shortly after the whole situation had gone down and arrived at the hospital right after both of the Houston men had been brought in by ambulance. Will had been DOA and Matt was unstable in critical condition. Chuck was sitting in the hallway of the ER with tears streaming down his face, soaked to the bone from the river and with blood all over him. Francine had been right there on the floor with Chuck in the same condition. He had known Will almost as long as Matt. The man had never stood a chance according to the medical examiner. He had bled out and died in Matt's arms as he struggled to get the pair across the river. When Roy and CJ had arrived shortly after and he was informed of his son's death, the elder Houston had completely broken down and clung to CJ.

Vince pulled in a shaky breath. "We're going to load this place down. C'mon." With that, he got out of the truck and they set about their work, neither man able to pull his mind from what had happened at the spot. After placing six cameras that would catch vehicles entering and exiting the area and along the river they checked the placement with the computer and then went back to the station.

Matt was sitting in the little office with Roy, quietly sipping coffee and staring at the wall, thinking through everything that they knew. He went to the dry erase board on the wall and started a list. Based on Matt's vision, the killer was a man who wore round glasses. He spoke Spanish with a really bad accent; it obviously wasn't his native tongue and he apparently didn't use it much. Each victim had been tied with the same kind of fencing wire in the same manner. All had received numerous cuts to their bodies before their throats had been sliced. All appeared to be from south of the border and no ID had been found in the possessions that were at the scenes. He stopped and walked back to the desk, reached over for the coffee cup and stared at the information. "The taser."

Roy was looking at the list. "What about it?" Both men looked up as the door opened and Vince and Chris entered.

"He only used a taser once - and that was on the male victim. So…" He started pacing around the small room. "Maybe he didn't think he could take the guy. He apparently didn't have any problem with the women."

"Good point." Vince leaned against the door. "So maybe he's on the small side."

"He's been here before." Houston stopped at the small window that looked out over the lanes of traffic that were entering the country.

"How do you figure that?" Oakley looked between Roy and Vince.

"The taser package. He took the package off of the front counter. Think about it - I did that this morning, but folks are used to me being around here occasionally."

"So it's somebody who works here?" Oakley's anger began to grow.

"Not necessarily." Houston shook his head and continued pacing. Roy started to speak and then changed his mind. "What?"

"What if…" The elder Houston didn't want to put his nephew through any more stress. "You got a glimpse of the killer when you touched the hair. What if you tried it again? Do you think you would be able to see more?"

Matt stopped in his tracks. He had never attempted it twice. "I don't know." The evidence bag was sitting in the pocket of his pants and he pulled it out.

"Do me a favor, Ace: sit down before you do it." Vince remembered how it had affected him before. "I don't want you to take a chance on doing a faceplant."

"Don't let anybody in here." The cowboy took a seat, waited as Oakley turned the lock on the door, and opened the bag as he took a steadying breath. "Here goes nothing." Putting his right index finger and thumb into the bag, he grasped the hair and felt the now familiar jolt as bright light flashed and then he was once again sitting in the darkness in the bushes. This time he tried to concentrate on the man even harder - the bad accent, the glasses - and this time he saw that the man had blue eyes and the glasses were frameless. He saw the light from the small computer as it lit the man's features. Then it was snapped closed and the attack with the knife started. But it wasn't a knife - Matt could now see that it was a dagger and there was a knotted cord on it. Then his throat was slashed and everything went black.

The room swam back into focus as the vision ended. His heart was pounding once again as he resealed the bag and tucked it back into his pocket. With shaking hands he took the fresh cup of coffee that Roy slid across the desk. "Uncle Roy, I need the computer."

With still shaking hands, he began doing an image search for knots - specifically those used on daggers. After a couple of minutes he clicked on a photo to blow it up and stopped. His voice was very quiet. "It wasn't a knife. It was a dagger - just like this one." He turned the computer so that the others could gather around and look at the screen.

"Mattlock, that's an SS dagger from World War II." Roy looked up at Chris and Vince.

"It looked just like that. It had the knot and everything. And there was engraving on it." He drank down more of the coffee. "The guy has blue eyes and his glasses have round lenses and they're frameless."

"Blue eyes and a Nazi knife - maybe a member of the Aryan Brotherhood?" Vince was astounded.

Roy leaned back and considered the new information. "It sure fits together."

Matt got to his feet and began pacing again. "The computer. What in the hell was he doing with a computer out there?" He jumped as there was a knock at the door that Chris had locked. The agent opened it and admitted Taylor and Temple who both looked aggravated. The cowboy moved over to stand in front of the board so that the new arrivals couldn't see what was written there.

Temple addressed the group. "We've been directed to go to New York. I'm sorry."

Matt held out his hand to her and they shook. "Not your fault. Thanks for the help."

"I'm going to keep after it as much as I can. You take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. Thanks, hon."

Taylor looked pissed. "We'll both keep after it."

"We appreciate it." Matt shook with the young man and watched as they left. He turned back to the board and added the new information, wondering as he did so just what in the hell he should do next and if it was going to take yet another death to catch the killer?


	8. Chapter 8

**08**

The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Matt and Vince went to an electronics store and bought two more laptops so that they could divide the monitoring of the critters that had been activated that day as well as watch the satellite feed. Even though it wasn't equipped with night vision any headlights would be picked up on it.

The group moved back to the suite at La Posada and set up operations. It was no longer practical for them to be at the Border Patrol station with the extra screens that needed to be in use and as he thought about the satellite, Matt hated the fact that so many people knew about it. When he had first gotten it, only he and Roy were privy to the information and he had tried to keep it that way considering that the very reason he had bought it was to track down one of the worst terrorists in the Middle East. His participation in the raid on the man's headquarters and his subsequent role in tossing the man out of a helicopter when it was discovered that he had a bomb strapped to him not only made Matt a target, but his friends and family as well. Thankfully, very few people knew about his part in the raid.

His phone rang and was immediately answered. "Hey, Babe."

"How are you doing, Cowboy?" Back in Houston, CJ had been busy doing research for the group.

"Better now that I'm talking to you." It was said with a hint of humor, but was heartfelt nonetheless.

"So it's mutual." She closed the door of the study. "I've been looking into the sales of Nazi daggers. It's unbelievable to me how many there are up for sale and how many people are interested in them. Anyway, going back over the last few years I've found quite a few sales. Since you said that it had engraving on the blade, I eliminated those that had plain blades. That left me with seventeen. Of that number, seven were purchased by museums and five went to buyers who often hold on to items for a little while and then resell when there is an increased interest in the market."

"And that leaves five others." He had put the phone on speaker and took a seat on the couch next to Vince.

"It does. I've checked into their backgrounds. Of those five, three are associated with known Aryan groups. But here's the kicker: those three haven't been anywhere near Texas or Mexico. One is in Indiana and the other two are in Idaho. I've done some in depth research on them - credit cards, bank records, and so on. There is absolutely nothing to tie them to the border."

"What about the other two?"

"I'm waiting on information on them to come back right now. It isn't looking hopeful." She waited to see what his reply would be and heard the deep sigh.

"Okay, thanks."

"I'm not done yet. If these guys don't pan out I'm going back to the buyers who resell."

"Just be careful, Babe. How are the kids?"

"Fine. Ben and Marty took the boys out to ride Cricket this morning. They held onto the lead, but as far as Vinnie and Mike are concerned they were in charge." There was laughter following the statement.

"I'm sure. Tell them I said thanks."

"Alright. I'm going to get back to digging some more. You just be careful, okay?"

"Yes ma'am. Love you."

"Love you more. 'Bye." She hung up the phone and went straight back to looking into the finances and records of the group of collectors. When Matt had called her earlier to let her know about the second vision that he had, she had been both excited and worried. It was great that he had gotten more information on the killer, but at what expense? Was it bad for him physically to go through what he had in order to stop the killings? And while she understood his drive to catch bad guys, she also worried that the mental cost might be too high. As she waited for the password program to work its magic, she made up her mind that Roger would be getting a phone call when it was all said and done. Better safe than sorry. And then another thought came to her: since everything that had happened at El Cenizo and his bout with depression, Matt had been a lot more open with her about his feelings. _At least something good has come out of so much misery_.

Back in Laredo, Chris entered the suite loaded down with bags from a local chicken restaurant. "Chow's on, guys." The other three men came to the bar and loaded up their plates. As Matt started to take a bite, a big bottle of hot sauce was placed in front of him by the Homeland Security agent. "Thought you might want that for a drink." Both men laughed as they thought back to their previous case in Laredo and the cowboy's penchant for spicy food.

After supper, Matt received a call from Prospero which only lasted a few minutes. Just as he had feared, the camera across from the latest murder scene on the Mexican side hadn't picked up anything. According to the captain it had been malfunctioning at the time. "Maintenance got it back online about an hour ago. So that was a bust. We've been having a lot of trouble with them the last couple of weeks."

"At least now we know." Matt had ended the call shortly afterwards and was monitoring critter feed and trying to figure out what else he could do. Would he hit that night? If he kept to the pattern it would happen on the US side. There was a hand on his shoulder.

"Take a break, Mattlock." Roy gave him a squeeze. "I'll take over on this one for a little while."

"Alright." He stood up and went out on the balcony. It was just a matter of minutes before sunset and he could picture in his mind the activity on the other side of the river. Groups of people were gathering at this very moment just waiting for the sun to dip down below the horizon so that they could make an attempt to cross into what many saw as the promised land - a place to work and improve their lives. The problem was that others saw it as just another place to spread the violence and hate of their gang. He and Will had dealt a massive blow to Las Serpientes the night that he had died. All but one of the leaders had been killed during the battle. Nevertheless, the gang was still alive and active with new leadership. He thought back to the note that he had received from the new head of the gang a few months ago informing him that there was no longer a contract out on him and that they wanted no further contact with him. It had occurred to him that maybe Las Serpientes was behind the attacks until he had found the hair of the male victim and seen what he had during the last minutes of his life. _No,_ he thought to himself, _Las Serpientes isn't behind this. _

"Houston!" Vince's voice boomed out and the cowboy immediately went back inside.

"What?"

"Take a look."

As Matt leaned over to get a better view of the screen his phone rang. "Yeah, Babe?"

"Matt, there's somebody in a vehicle hanging around on the US side." CJ felt like every nerve in her body was on high alert.

"Yeah, Vince just spotted it. Chris, let Prospero know." He turned his attention back to CJ as he went back toward the bedroom to grab his vest. "I'm going to head that way, Babe."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I sure as hell won't be alone. One of the BP agents will get there before we do."

"Just be careful. And call me."  
"I will. Love you."

"Love you." She disconnected the call and kept watching the vehicle. It appeared that the driver knew a little bit about the layout of the trails in the area and was now pulling down into the brush. She lost sight of the car and sat staring at the leaves of the trees hoping that the nightmare was about to end.


	9. Chapter 9

**09**

_Why does this Godforsaken place have to be so hot?_ He looked across the river with binoculars and could see three gang lookouts. From where he sat in the Explorer they didn't have a chance of spotting him. _Neither can Border Patrol_. There was a snicker as he thought about how he had managed to disable the cameras one by one without anyone at the Laredo station any the wiser. They probably thought they had simply malfunctioned. But he proved them wrong. Again. Why people couldn't understand that he was right - had been right to take the stance he had - still mystified him. And to fire him for what he knew was right was inexcusable. Then again, there were so many of them - the undesirables, the mutts, the refuse from other countries - in charge of things now. _That's what is wrong with this country. It needs to be cleansed._ Nodding in agreement with himself, he looked across the river again. Maybe opportunity would present itself again that night. And if it did, then his next mission would be on the other side of the border again. It was unbelievably easier on the Mexican side. Their officials didn't seem to care that the citizens were trying to move across the border like herds of animals. If he had his way, the herds coming across the border would be facing extinction like the dinosaurs.

Taking a long drink, he thought about the man that had been a large part of the reason that he had suffered so much indignity and ultimately lost his position of power. He was nothing but a mutt born of a white man and a half Mexican - half Commanche mother. It was disgraceful to think that he had gotten away with being considered white for all those years. But Houston was going to get what was coming to him. Hopefully his nearness to the place where he had almost been killed and his cousin had bled out would create even more of an advantage. Rumor had it that he had lost his mind for a few months. _Too bad it wasn't permanent._ As far as he was concerned it just proved inferior breeding. There was another snicker and he raised the binoculars once again looking out across the river. After swatting at another mosquito he turned the key on the SUV, rolled up the window and started the engine. Turning the air conditioning on once again, he wiped sweat off his face and put the binoculars back to his eyes, searching the riverbank on the opposite side and hoping for another victim to swim into his clutches. And he thought about how he would work to get Houston to the same spot at El Cenizo.

The laptop on the seat beeped and he immediately snatched it up. He opened it and saw that a Border Patrol unit had been dispatched to his location to check out a suspicious vehicle. _How? _There were no cameras in that section. He quickly put the SUV in reverse and backed out of the brush, before dropping it into drive and getting back on the dirt trail and then taking one of the connecting trails to hop onto Highway 83.

Houston and Oakley headed out of the parking lot of La Posada as the Homeland Security agent was on the phone with the station. He relayed the information to Houston. "Our officer is about half a mile away from where he's parked."

Matt's phone was on speaker and CJ then told him that their driver had just gotten onto Highway 83 and was heading north back toward Laredo. "Tell them to pull up the traffic cams on 83. Use the TxDOT site. He's probably going to be getting close to the Cielito Lindo intersection soon. We need to try to get the plate number." Oakley immediately gave the information to the dispatcher.

As he passed the Loring Avenue intersection Matt kept working through what they knew about the killer and the thought that the man had knowledge of the station continued to gnaw at him. And then it hit him. "The computer."

"What about it?"

"I think he's using it to figure out when units are being dispatched."

"How?"

"Hacking. Trust me, it isn't really that hard to do."

"Well…" Chris nodded. "I guess you would know."

"And if he can hack dispatch he might be hacking the cameras, too. It seems a little too convenient that all of a sudden they're causing so much trouble, doesn't it?"

"I mean it happens occasionally, but yeah - apparently it's been happening a lot the last couple of weeks."

"So maybe he hacked them first to see if it would get repaired right away."

"And if he could control the cameras and knew when someone was being dispatched-"

"He would be able to get the hell out of there - just like he did when a unit was sent to check on the suspicious vehicle."

CJ's voice came through Matt's phone. "Hon, I think I just found him. It's a white Explorer."

"Can you see the tag?" Daylight was beginning to fade and he had his doubts.

"No. But it looks like it's got quite a bit of dust on it."

"Keep an eye on it. Is he still on 83?"

"Yes."

Chris gave the dispatcher the information about the Explorer and within a minute CJ gave Matt another alert. "Matt, he's getting off the highway. He's pulled into a parking lot. According to the map it's a reception hall."

"He's got to be hacking dispatch." Houston swore violently. "Babe, is he still in the vehicle?"

"I don't know. It's at the back of the lot closest to the building and there's a shadow. Damn it!" She said a few other choice words and Matt was shocked.

"Easy, Babe. We're almost there." He turned onto North Merida Drive and tucked the phone into his shirt pocket under the vest. The parking lot of the business had very few cars in it and he barrelled within thirty feet of the dirty Explorer. Both he and Chris exited the truck, leaving the doors open in case they needed cover quickly. There didn't appear to be anyone in the vehicle or anywhere around it. After a quick nod, the pair advanced on it.

CJ sat holding her breath. She could see the SUV lit up from the headlights of Matt's truck and could just make out the two men cautiously approaching it. Why didn't they call for backup? And then it dawned on her that Chris hadn't asked dispatch for help because the killer would know it.

Houston looked underneath the vehicle as they approached and there was no one there. As Chris covered him, he quickly took a look inside and found it empty with the keys still in the ignition. They went to the door of the reception hall and found it locked. Matt knocked and in a minute the owner appeared telling them that they were closed.

"Did you see the person driving this SUV?" Houston had yet to holster his pistol and he saw the woman nervously looking at it.

"No. I have been working in the back washing linens."

"Has anyone tried to get inside?"

"No."

"Stay put for right now, okay?"

"Okay." She disappeared into the back with two of her co-workers and the pair circled the building, finding absolutely no sign of the driver.

"Chris, we need somebody to come process this truck." Houston finally holstered the pistol and returned to his truck, pulling the phone back out of his pocket. "You still there, Lil Mama?"

"Yes." She sounded both scared and disgusted.

"There's no sign of him here. We're going to get someone to come out and check it for prints. Maybe we'll get a hit."

"Okay. I'm sorry, hon."

"Nothing to be sorry about. You can't see in the dark with that thing."

"This really pisses me off."

"Yeah, I noticed. The kids aren't anywhere around, are they?" He couldn't help but laugh.

"No. They're already in the bed."

"Hope Madre Rosa didn't hear what you said. You might get your mouth washed out with soap. I had no idea you could cuss like that." He began laughing in earnest.

"Oh, hush."

"Love you even if you do cuss like a sailor."

"I learned it from you."

"Not sure I ever used some of those words around you."

"Hush. And be careful." She could see as a couple of patrol cars were drawing near to his location. "Call me."

"Okay, pottymouth. Love you."

"Love you." She disconnected the call and leaned back heaving a sigh of relief and impatience - an odd pairing to be sure, but very accurate.

Matt sat in the cab of the truck as a crime scene tech checked for prints. He was hoping that the man hadn't been wearing gloves or hadn't had time to wipe it down. As he waited, his mind drifted back to Will once more and their final minutes together. He had learned afterwards that his cousin had died in the river. _At least he wasn't alone. I was with him. _Looking up at the stars overhead he thought back to some of the camping trips that the pair along with CJ and Chuck had shared as kids and he smiled. _Those were sure some good times._

"What are you smiling about?" Chris grumbled as he returned to have a seat in the truck. It had been a long day and he was tired.

"Just thinking about when I was a kid. We used to camp out a lot - CJ, Will, Chuck, and me. Used to love to look up at the stars and wonder what it would be like to be up there."

"I'm surprised you didn't grow up to be an astronaut." The agent chuckled.

"Oh, all four of us thought about it. Funny how things change. But some things never do. I still love to look up and see those stars. Daddy used to tell me that my family that had passed were looking down and watching me - that's what the stars were." He thought about that again as one particularly bright star caught his attention and in a flash he thought about Will. _Cuz, if that's you we could sure use some help down here._

"Agent Oakley?" The tech called out excitedly. Both Oakley and Matt got out of the truck and approached. "Sir, we've got a hit, but…" She looked concerned.

"Who is it?" Chris leaned over to look at the tablet that she was holding. "Holy shit!" He grabbed it and handed it to Houston who looked first surprised and then incredibly angry.

"Hello, Hitler - you son of a bitch." _Thanks, Cuz._


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

"You have got to be kidding me." CJ sat cross-legged on the king size bed where she had just landed.

"Nope. It's Reggie McManus. I just called Susannah Temple. When she and Jared Taylor got to New York they had quite a shock. Their orders to go there were bogus."

"And McManus is assigned to the New York office, right?"

"Was assigned there: he was fired about six months ago. Apparently the Hitler nickname I gave him was more accurate than I could have thought. He was terminated after he went on a racist rant in the middle of a meeting one day."

"Holy cow."

"Susannah is pissed to put it mildly. She can cuss almost as good as you." He couldn't hide a chuckle.

"Funny. So now what?"

"She and Jared are trying to find out what he's been up to since he got the ax. But I'm about to make a little cyber trip into his life."

"Do you think he's really capable of hacking the dispatch and cameras?"

"It would seem that way. Of course he could have help."

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need my beautiful pregnant wife to get some rest." He heard a groan from Vince as he rolled his eyes and took a seat next to him on the couch. "I think Vince is jealous or something."

"He could always get Isabella pregnant again so he could say that." She gave a chortle.

"Nah - he's too old to get her knocked up." He laughed as Novelli slapped his arm and Roy snorted. "Anyway, we've got a BOLO out on him. He's going to need more wheels. Doubt if any of the rental companies will want to do business with him again now that we've sent out an alert. I can't believe he used his real name on it."

"Just let me know, sweetie. And be careful. Love you."  
"Love you, sexy Lil Mama. 'Night." He hung up and opened up the laptop as Vince continued to grumble. Roy was seated in a chair across from the pair watching the critter feed and noticed that his nephew seemed to be in high spirits - a distinct change from his behavior previously. While he was glad for it, he wondered what had brought about the change.

Matt turned his attention to delving into the life of McManus. As the search began, he noticed that the former Homeland Security agent had taken quite a few precautions to keep his information safe. And he was skilled. _But not skilled enough to get past me._ The minutes ticked by while he breached the firewall of McManus' private server. He let out a whistle. Some of the documents he was finding would have made Adolf Hitler proud. And then he found the report that the former agent had received from a genealogy research firm: Reggie McManus was a distant relation to the long dead dictator of Germany. He told the other three men present what he had just found.

"Figures. Nut jobs must run in the family." Vince shook his head. "Do you really think he's dumb enough to go back to the river tonight?"

"Don't know. Now that dispatch is using cell phone communication to send out any units below the last murder scene on the US side he won't have a clue if anyone is there or not. And they've got a crew working on a security patch for that and the camera system, too."

Chris spoke up sleepily. "Plus we've got several units on foot stationed along the river where they can't be seen."

"If he does go back he really is crazy." Roy shook his head.

Matt spent the next few hours digging through McManus' financial information, emails, and browsing history. He looked at the time on the computer: almost twelve. The living area of the suite had grown quiet as he worked and he now looked around. Roy was seated across from him watching critter feed, Vince was seated next to him on the couch doing the same, and Chris was sitting with his head on the bar softly snoring. He had told CJ to get some rest a couple of hours earlier. Hopefully, she was. Her last checkup had gone great and the babies seemed to be developing well. Once again his mind went back to the sex of the twins and Roy watched him over the monitor of the laptop.

"You okay?"

"Uh huh. Just thinking."

Vince gave a snort. "That explains the smell. I was about to blame Chris."

"Mattlock…" Roy stood up and stretched. "I really don't think he's going to hit tonight."

"I'm starting to think the same thing." Vince nodded his agreement.

"Why don't y'all get some sleep?" Matt looked between the two.

"I'll relieve you about three." Vince slid the computer over and stood up yawning and went over to the Homeland Security agent. "Hey - go to bed."

"Huh? Did anything happen?"

Matt shook his head. "Nope. Get some sleep, bud."

"Call me." Oakley left the suite and went next door to his own room as Vince wandered back to his area of the suite.

"Go ahead, Uncle Roy."

"I will." He watched his nephew again until the younger man looked up from the screens. "Boy…"

"I'm okay." Matt had a feeling he knew what Roy was wondering about.

"I'm glad. What caused the sudden change?"

There was a pause as Houston moved on the couch slightly. "Well, I've been doing some thinking. All of this sucks - being here so close to El Cenizo. And I'm pretty sure McManus is doing this to get to me."

"So you're not going to let it get to you."

"Uncle Roy, what happened was terrible. And I miss Will something fierce. But there is no way in hell I'm going to let this racist little bastard warp his memory and use his death to cause even more misery. Will would be pissed. And…" He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "It may sound crazy, but I feel like he's with me on this."

"Not crazy at all." Roy went to the window and looked out into the starry sky. "Great Grandma Houston used to say that the stars were our loved ones that have gone on looking down on us."

"That's what Daddy used to tell me."

"From the looks of it out there tonight we've got a lot of back up." Roy turned, patted his nephew on the shoulder, and quietly walked out of the suite.

The rest of the night passed quietly, with Vince taking over the watch at three. Matt went into his bedroom, kicked off his boots, and was sound asleep in under a minute as the sex of the expected twins floated through his mind again.

At six o'clock he awoke to the aroma of donuts and coffee. Oakley was standing with a cup of the brew next to the bed. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

"Damn." Matt sat up and took the cup and a long sip.

"What's wrong?"

"I would rather see CJ when I wake up." He grinned as the agent cursed him and left the room. After a quick shower and change of clothes, Matt went back out to the living area and snagged a donut. Vince and Roy were back to watching surveillance. "Anything new?"

"Prospero called a few minutes ago. The patch is on the cameras. They still aren't sure how secure dispatch is, though. He said that they're going to keep using cell phones below the last scene."

Nodding, Matt walked over and pulled the curtains back to look out at the river. As he did, he wondered if McManus was aware that they had figured out who he was. Most likely he realized that they would run prints on the Explorer plus the VIN that had come back to the rental agency where he had gotten it.

Chris joined him. "Laredo PD has folks out checking the hotels and motels in the area showing pictures of Hitler around. Maybe they'll get a hit."

"Maybe." After polishing off the donut, the PI went back to the bar for another and then an inspiration struck him. "I wonder…" He took one of the laptops and after a few counter measures began hacking into the registers of local hotels. "He might be using an alias." After a quick check, he stopped suddenly. "Funk."

Vince stopped mid-chew. "Huh?"

"Walther Funk. He was one of Hitler's top advisors. There's a Walter Funk registered at the Fine Nine on Lomas Del Sur Boulevard. What do you think, Chris?"

"Let's go take a look." He hooked another donut. "Meet you in the parking lot. Gotta get my vest."

"Alright." Matt closed the laptop, took another donut and went back to the bedroom to get his gear. He came back out wearing the open vest and fastening the holster while clenching what was left of the pastry in his teeth.

"Dear Lord, it's official." Vince shook his head.

"Huh?" The question was muffled as the rest of the donut was consumed.

"You're a real cop now." The former detective began laughing as did Roy. He continued to laugh as Matt grabbed another donut, flipped him off, and started for the door.

"Mattlock." Roy was now serious.

"Sir?"

"Be careful."

"Yes sir." He nodded at the older man and exited the suite.

Chris was waiting at the elevator. "You could've brought me another donut, too."

"Whiner."

The pair rode southward and were at the hotel in less than fifteen minutes. According to the information that Matt had found in the hotel records, Walter Funk had registered at 9:48 the night before and had paid cash. There was no vehicle information on the registration.

"Well, let's see what we can see." Matt put on a pair of tactical gloves before sliding down out of the truck. "He's in 109." They went down the sidewalk, past the office door, and ascertained that room 109 was at the back end of the first floor. As they approached, the curtains on the window were closed and care had been taken to make sure that no one would be able to peek around the edges.

Pointing back toward the way they had come, Houston retreated a couple of doorways and stood behind a large concrete post. Oakley joined him. "These rooms back up to each other with a service hallway in between where maintenance has access to the plumbing. So he only has the one door."

"Want to sit on it and wait for him to come out?"

"Not really." Glancing at his watch he saw that it was just after seven. The do not disturb sign had not been put out on the door and he stared thoughtfully in that direction. "Maybe maintenance needs to check for a water leak?" Without another word they went back down to room 109, standing to the side of the door and avoiding the window. He knocked loudly and spoke with a heavy Texas accent. "Maintenance. Need to check on a water leak." There was no response. After a minute he knocked again and repeated his request louder. Still no response from 109, but the pair heard a muffled sound coming from inside.

Oakley nodded at the door and sarcastically said, "I think I just heard someone scream inside there. You?"

"Uh huh." With the Homeland Security Agent covering, Matt took two steps back and kicked the door right next to the knob, causing it to crash inward. The pair entered and began clearing the room. It was when they reached the bathroom that they found the cause of the noise - a young black woman was tied up with a gag in her mouth in the bathtub. After removing the gag, they learned that she had been delivering a pizza around 10:30 the night before when the man had grabbed her and yanked her into the room.

Matt removed his phone and pulled up a picture of their suspect. "Is this him?"  
"That's him!" She shook violently.

"Alright. Did you happen to hear what he had planned?"

"No. He started strangling me and the next thing I knew I was in the tub."

"What were you driving?" Oakley ended the call for an ambulance and crime scene unit.

"A 2007 Honda Pilot. Blue. And the back bumper is messed up."

After first ascertaining that the vehicle was not in the parking lot they got her name and ran a check through the DMV, finding the license number and putting out a BOLO for both it and McManus, using both his real name and the assumed name of Walter Funk. They got back in the truck and as Matt cranked the engine and tried to figure out which way to go next, Chris spoke. "We've made it kind of tough for him - do you think he might try to go across the border?"

Houston thought it over. "He'd have to go through one of the checkpoints. Even last night they had his picture. Unless he wanted to swim over."

"Doubtful."

"I agree." As they drove along, the detective thought it through. "McManus has a major ego. He's so damn proud of the Hitler connection I just can't see him ditching the mustache. But if he decided to shave it off and dye his hair…" He left the rest unsaid. "Or he could steal another vehicle."

Oakley blew out a disgusted breath. "So more than likely he'll stay on this side of the river. As crazy as he is, I don't think he'll turn tail and run."

"Nope."


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

"So how are y'all doing this morning?" Matt had just put the Chevy in park on the dirt road near the last area that McManus had visited along the river. He smiled as he could hear her over the noise of Catey and the twins disagreeing over something.

"Hey, Cowboy. We're fine. Are you boys staying out of trouble?"

"So far - but with Chris around I make no promises."

"Have you had any luck finding him?" She moved from the playground up onto the back porch as she listened to him tell about the morning's revelation. "Funk. That was one of the buyer names. Hang on." Going into the study, she opened the computer and found her research. "Here. It was an address in Idaho. But there wasn't anything to indicate that he had been to Texas."

"Could have been a cash-only trip."

"Hon, do you think he could be with someone else?"

"I guess it's a possibility. We don't have any evidence either way, really. There was only one set of tracks that led to the car. Although the other person could have stayed with the vehicle." All three were quiet. "How about you run a check using the names of Hitler's - the real one - top people and see if you get a hit on anything here in Texas. And he might change it a little bit - like he changed Walther to Walter. And see if he's made any payments to the same person on a regular basis."

"I'll get started. What are you doing?"

"Sitting by the river trying to come up with a game plan."

She frowned. "You be careful down there. Don't take any chances."

"Yes ma'am. Love you. And give the hellions a kiss for me."

"I will. Love you, too." The call was ended and she dove into the research, wondering as she did if McManus could have more than one person helping him.

Reggie McManus was beyond infuriated. They apparently had figured out that he had hacked dispatch and the cameras. He had worked feverishly all night trying to get into both and had yet to find a way. And the fact that they had tracked down the Explorer had put a major crimp in his plans. If they had checked it for prints, most certainly they knew by now that he was who they were after. And for the first time since starting on the spree he was beginning to worry. What were his options? Obviously, he could leave Laredo, but doing so would ruin his plans of getting even with Houston.

Another solution was to disguise himself. He went to the filthy bathroom mirror in the cramped motel room, took a swipe at it with his hand, and looked at himself. Blonde hair would be okay. And the mustache could be dyed as well. He fingered the hair just under his nose, came to attention, and gave the Nazi salute. _Yes, _he thought to himself, _blonde hair would be just fine. _

Coming back out into the room he peeked through the crooked blinds on the window. A small dollar store was located on the opposite side of the street and should have just what he needed.

"Erik, I've got a job for you." He looked to where the other man sat in the chair and gave his orders.

The younger man stepped out onto the walkway and cautiously looked around before trotting obediently across the road. McManus gave a sound of disgust. It was a hell hole of a motel with low class inferiors both working there and as clientele. However, it was only temporary. After he was done with Houston there would be a swift trip to Idaho and he would slide back into the other life that he had set up there.

Matt drove down the dirt road as he thought, looking across at the water and the trees. Only a couple of days ago the thought of being so near the place of Will's death had sent a chill down his spine. Now he felt drawn to it. _If that's what little Hitler wants, who am I to deny him? _

Chris looked nervously over at his friend. They were less than a mile from El Cenizo. The last thing he wanted was for Houston to - what? Freak out? Go into another state of depression? He nearly jumped as the man spoke.

"Chris, you can relax. I'm not gonna explode or anything. It's okay."

"Oh - well…" What could he say?

Matt stopped the truck at the entrance to the area where so much misery had occurred just a few months ago. He turned off the engine and turned on his memory. Inside his head he saw the whole thing play out once again: the moment he finally met his grandmother, then Diego and his men had dragged them from the garage and out into the night. Topsana had been shot, Matt had killed Diego, and he and Will had made a run for it in the old Toyota pickup with the remainder of Diego's loyal gang leaders hot on their trail. The flashing lights of the Border Patrol vehicles had seemed like fireworks on the Fourth of July to him when he had made the leap into the river - just as the pickup exploded when the gas tank was hit. And that was the moment that Will's fate had been sealed. A shard of window glass had cut his neck and he had died as Matt held him and swam across the river.

Chris was silent as he watched the man sitting next to him. Something had changed in him the night before and the agent thought it was for the good, although he wasn't sure what had caused it.

Matt took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slowly exhaled. When he reopened his eyes a feeling of calm washed over him and he nodded. He felt certain that it was just a matter of time before they nailed McManus to the wall.

CJ had been working steadily, diving into Reggie McManus' other world - the world of artist Walter Funk of Blanchard, Idaho. "God, his paintings are just as lousy as the real Hitler's." She couldn't help herself and laughed. The "artist" had an online store set up and after hacking into it, she found that he had done the majority of shipping from the New York address he had when assigned to Homeland Security there. Her next step was to invade his finances. The first deposits had been made over five years earlier - long before he had landed in hot water at work and been fired. The latest balance was showing almost $14,000 available, with the most recent withdrawal being $5,000 in cash. _So that's what he's been operating with on his little crime spree._

Up until three weeks ago, there hadn't been a tremendous amount of activity on the account. That was when a payment had been made to Erik Gerig for $500. The next week there was a payment of $1000. Her next step was to find out who the man was and his whereabouts. As she finished a flurry of keystrokes the information popped up on the monitor. "Erik Gerig, this is your life." Reading through the information she found his phone number and - after hacking his mobile carrier - found the location of his last call: Laredo, Texas. Her finger punched the redial on her phone. "Hon, I've got some interesting information for you…"

Houston and Oakley parked behind the dollar store and knocked on the door. A phone call had already been made and the manager carefully peeked out to see the two men holding up badges. Odell Lamont let the pair inside and ushered them to his office. "I found the footage from around that time." He pointed to the computer on his desk and Matt leaned over and punched the spacebar to begin the playback. Chris pulled up the last mugshot for Erik Gerig from Boise PD that CJ had sent them and as the video progressed, they both nodded. Pausing the feed, Houston gave a smile. "That's him." He punched the key again and they watched as Gerig cautiously looked out the front window and then moved toward the back of the store and pulled out his phone.

"The time syncs with what CJ told us about the phone call." Oakley was now grinning.

"Yup. Is that hair dye?"

The manager answered. "It is. Blonde."

They watched as Gerig picked up a bag of chips and a couple of other items before checking out. He then exited the store.

"Do you have cameras outside, too?"

"Yes sir." Lamont took the mouse and clicked to bring up the footage from the time that the young man had left the store. "He went across to the motel. Our camera doesn't show all that. I was keeping an eye on him - didn't like the looks of him. He had a swastika tattoo and some other stuff. The ink looked new and his skin was irritated looking. He bought some aloe lotion." The black man gave Houston a knowing look.

"Mr. Lamont, we sure appreciate your help. Can I get a copy of this?"

"Sure can." He took the flashdrive from Matt and put the files on for him.

"If you see him again please give me a call." The detective handed over one of his cards with the cell number circled.

"I thought that was you." The older man smiled. "You helped out my nephew in Harris County a while back." He thanked Matt, then shook with both men and watched as they went back out the same way they had entered.

Once in the truck, Matt pulled out his phone. "Hey, Babe. We just took a look at the store's video. It was him. And the manager saw him go back across the road. Did you track down the number that he called?"

"I did. It was his grandmother. She lives in Blanchard and works as a cook at a small restaurant there. She's seventy-two, and from what I've been able to find isn't in the best of health. Neither was her bank account - until there was $1,000 deposit made about two weeks ago. That was when Hitler paid his helper."

All three remained quiet. "So maybe Erik is helping McManus for the money."

"Sounds like it." CJ took a sip of the tea sitting on the desk in the study.

"I wonder if they're renting the room under Gerig's name?" Oakley looked to his friend.

Matt gave his wife the name of the motel and they waited as she began looking into the records. "Yup, it's in Erik's name."

"Any vehicle information on it?"

"No. But they are in room 307."

"I'll call Prospero." Chris began dialing.

Back in Houston, CJ pulled up the satellite program. "I'm going to move the satellite to cover the motel."

"Okay. Roy and Vince are about to be brought up to speed."

"Hon, please be careful. You know how crazy he is."

"I will. And you try to take it easy, okay?"

"Yes, dear. Love you."

"Love you more." He disconnected and punched Vince's number, brought him up to speed and then waited to hear what Prospero's response would be.


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

Undercover units from Border Patrol and Laredo PD were moved into position by 11:30.

They had a warrant for Reggie McManus and all was set. There had been no more movement from the occupants of the room according to CJ who was closely monitoring with the satellite.

Matt sat in his truck with Chris, now joined by Roy, and Vince who had hitched a ride with Laredo officers. He spoke to Prospero on the phone.

"Houston, I'd like for this to end peacefully. Let's wait for them to come out. And if they don't by 3:00 we can move in. My boss doesn't want any big blowups."

"We've got his helper's cell phone number. Might come in handy."

"It could. I'd like to take them outside. If that doesn't happen…"

"Okay. Talk to you later." Matt blew out an impatient breath, then dialed CJ. "Hey, any more activity on Gerig's phone?"

"No." She leaned back in the chair and swiveled from side to side.

He explained Prospero's plan. "I know he wants to take them outside to avoid any innocent bystanders at the hotel getting hurt, but damn."

"Has he considered...hang on." She zoomed in on the door to 307. "Somebody just opened the door. Gerig is coming out." All four phones in the truck vibrated with a text as one of the units reported the same activity.

Vince spoke up. "If we could snatch him up out of sight of Hitler…"

"Yup. Exactly what I was thinking." Houston listened as Chris contacted Mauricio Prospero. The agent nodded at Matt who then sent a mass text informing the other units. They would grab Gerig while the others remained at their posts to monitor McManus.

"You should be able to see him in just a few seconds, hon."

"Yep, I got him. Gonna get off of here, Babe."

"Be careful. Love you."

"Love you." He ended the call, slipped the phone in his pocket beneath the vest and got ready to move.

Erik Gerig was quickly growing tired of Funk's orders. He treated him like he was nothing more than a mule to be used any way he liked. Carry the bags, get the food, the crap just got worse and worse. He knew when he joined up with the group that he would have to pay his dues and put in some time to advance through the ranks, but being assigned to Funk was about the worst gig that he could imagine. _Could just keep on walking straight to the bus station and go back home. _Looking around once again, the idea was gaining momentum in his brain as he went around the corner of the motel headed for the diner a block away. Maybe he would just grab a meal there, then go catch a bus. If the other members of the white supremacist group found out that he had deserted his post, though, it could be a serious problem. Surely they wouldn't hurt his grandmother. _Maybe I could-_. The thought ended abruptly as a hand reached out from the alleyway that he was passing, snagged the collar of his shirt, and yanked him back into the semi-darkness. He found himself pushed face first up against a brick wall and held there as his hands were cuffed behind his back. "What the-!"

"Shut up."

A gravelly voice hissed in his ear as he was searched. The .38 was removed from the back of his waistband and the razor knife as well as his phone was fished out of his right front pocket before he was spun around. The man that had him pinned against the wall was Matt Houston - the man that Funk had been raging about the whole way down to Texas and the entire time they had been there. He felt his jaw drop.

"Now, Erik: you've got a choice to make."

Gerig swallowed hard. Houston was a pretty big guy, at least eight inches taller than himself and a good fifty pounds heavier, most of which seemed to be muscle, and with dark eyes that glittered with anger like a snake. He looked around at the other three men that were gathered there. One was an older guy of at least seventy, and the other two looked to be somewhere in their mid to late forties. The guy that had taken the weapons off of him had dark hair and an olive complexion. The other man was slightly on the heavy side, and had a vest on that said HOMELAND SECURITY and as he began looking through the phone, Erik croaked, "Shit."

"Yup, you're in it deep. You know the feds have the death penalty and what you've been involved in qualifies."

"Nuh uh. I didn't kill nobody." He shook his head vehemently.

The olive-skinned man spoke with a slightly New York-sounding accent. "You're an accessory. Same penalty. Unless you want to help out. Then you _might_ get a little help in return."

His mind froze: he was a member of the Aryan Believers. What had they told him to do if he got picked up? And then it clicked. "I'm a member of Aryan Believers. We are allowed to have our own political views and will not bow down to your mongrel laws. I don't have to say anything. You can't do anything to m-" He let out an involuntary yip as Houston grabbed his shirt collar and hoisted him into the air, shaking him a couple of times before once again pinning him to the wall while his feet dangled a good eighteen inches off of the ground.

"So you want the death penalty, is that what I just heard?" The voice seemed to fill the entire alley, but strangely was quiet at the same time.

The older man spoke up. "Now, Matt. He's just a kid. Maybe he doesn't understand exactly what he's done."

Erik's eyes went to the old man. Piercingly blue eyes were framed by silver-white hair. Maybe he would help.

"Bull. He's a grown man. You heard him - he's a member of _Aryan Believers._" The last was said with complete disgust.

Finally, the heavy guy spoke. "Ah, let's just take him and book him into the jail." His tone turned malevolent. "We'll put him in with all kinds of folks that he can make friends with - and tell them what he's done."

Houston gave an eerie chuckle. "That damn tattoo on his neck will tell them everything they need to know. He'll be the belle of the cell block." He felt the kid's Adam's apple bob up and down spasmodically.

Erik tried for a brave expression. "My brothers will stand by me."

Houston shook his head, leaned in, and the rumble sounded like thunder. "Not if we tell them you gave up Funk, they won't."

"But-"

Roy played the good cop role again. "Boys, don't be too hasty. I think Erik might want to help us - and himself. Don't you, son?"

Gerig looked around at the group again. If what he had heard about Houston was true, he was lucky to still be alive; would the old man be able to help him?

"He better start helping pretty damn quick. I'm losing patience." The big man growled again. "The offer goes off the table in five - four - thr-"

"Okay." Erik nodded his head the little bit that he could with Houston's fist pressed right up against his neck. "Okay. What do you want?"

"We want you to get McManus out of that room and out in the open." The cowboy saw the confused look on the young man's face.

"Who is McManus?"

"Your wonderful companion." Roy took over. "He got canned from Homeland Security and picked up the name Funk when he started over in Idaho."

"Seriously?" He felt Houston's grip unbelievably tighten. "I didn't know, man. Take it easy."

Chris took over. "Where did he send you?"

"To the diner for food."

"You're going to call and tell him that they don't do to-go orders. Tell him it's about empty and that it's safe for him there."

"He won't leave that room unless it's dark."

Matt gave him another angry look and adjusted his grip slightly.

"I swear it - that's why he keeps sending me out."

Houston leaned in again. "And did it ever occur to you to wonder _why_ he didn't want to be seen?"

"Uh…"

"He's too stupid for that, Houston." Vince gave a snicker.

Matt started in again. "So he's had his little dog taking orders and fetching for him, huh? Did you join up to be a slave?"

Gerig spluttered and the other men laughed.

"Look, I don't care what you tell him, but it better get him out of that room. If you alert him to the fact that we're here…" Matt left the unsaid threat hanging.

"Okay." He was relieved as his feet were finally set back on the ground, but found his knees quaking in the aftermath.

Chris punched the contact for Funk on the phone and hit the speaker button, holding it out in the younger man's direction. Matt had his shoulder pinned against the wall and increased the pressure as it began ringing.

A familiar voice came across the line. "What?"

"Hey, I just ran into a Texas branch of the organization here at the diner. I think they might be some help for us. Remember you said last night that it would be good to have a whole crew?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, they're legit. And this place is empty except for me and them."

"I'll be right there."

Oakley was peeking through the small window on the door of the diner's kitchen and could just make out McManus through the front window. They had cleared out the diner and two of the undercover units had moved in, one was parked out on the street and the two men from Laredo PD assigned to the other unit were seated in a booth with Matt who had donned a black hoodie. His face was obscured by the hood. The officers across were both wearing black t-shirts and had nearly shaved heads. Matt had Erik trapped in the booth against the wall where he couldn't make a run for it. His handcuffed wrists were hidden under the table. There were plates in front of them and the undercover cops were eating as McManus walked in. The waitress behind the counter was carrying a tub of dishes to the back. "Be right with you, hon." She went through the kitchen door as the former Homeland Security agent pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the booth.

"Erik, who are our new friends?" He eyed the one to his right as the hood covered his face.

The one seated to his left held out his right hand. "Gordon. This is Tom." He motioned to the man on his left. "I hear you could use a little help, brother."

"Maybe." He looked at the hooded figure again. "What about you?"

Gordon spoke again. "He doesn't talk. The last thing he said to anybody was that until this country was clean he was going to let his actions do the talking."

"Uh huh." McManus seemed a little unnerved by the silence.

"So what can we do to help you on your mission?" Tom took a long sip of his drink.

"I need to have someone taken out. A mongrel cop named Houston."

"Yeah, I've heard about that SOB." Gordon nodded. "He's put away a lot of good men. Any idea where he is?"

"Unfortunately, he's here in town and interfering with my extermination efforts." Reggie had decided on the way to the diner to sic the brotherhood members on Houston. He felt trapped and needed to make a clean getaway. They could take the fall for his murder. And Erik was extra baggage that he didn't need. He would see to it that the young man never made it back to Idaho. There were plenty of places along the way where he could be disposed of, with no one the wiser.

"Got a plan?"

"No, I figured you boys were the local experts. It would probably be easy enough to make it look like some inferior did it. God knows there's plenty of them around here."

"I like the way you think. When do you need it done?"

"ASAP."

"Alright. We'll get to work taking out the trash."

Chris and Roy moved in at the words "taking out the trash". McManus stood and held out his hand to Gordon and Tom and shook, then turned to the silent hooded figure. "You don't have to talk, brother, but I would like to shake your hand."

Without showing his face, Matt stuck his hand out and as McManus grasped it, he found his wrist bent backwards causing his knees to buckle and he screeched in pain. "I'm no brother of yours." Matt stood up and pulled Reggie's hand around behind his back while Chris began to pop cuffs on him.

The kick that hit the Homeland Security agent in the groin sent him reeling backwards into the stools at the counter. It also exposed McManus' left ankle. Matt grabbed it and pushed the man face down on the tile flooring, while Gordon produced another pair of cuffs and hooked him up. McManus went ballistic, screaming obscenities at the entire group and threatening to kill each and every one of them including Erik for luring him into the trap.

"Hey, Hitler. Thanks for stacking on more charges. Hope you're comfortable in this position. You'll probably be spending a lot of time like that." Matt got to his feet and went to check on Chris.

The door to room 307 was nervously opened by the manager who was quickly dismissed. Houston and his group began searching the room. McManus' bag was opened and they began going through the contents, taking pictures of each item as it was removed. Two of the Nazi daggers were found and both had blood stains on the knotted cords. "Hopefully we can get some DNA off of them."

Oakley removed the last of the items. "No sign of IDs for the victims. We may never find out who they were."

Matt opened the computer and after a couple of minutes and a search on his phone, got past the security. He smirked. "He used Hitler's birthday as his PIN." There was a general sound of disgust. "And here we go - this proves he hacked dispatch and the cameras." Scrolling through he pointed at the screen. "He kept trying after the patches were put in place."

Back at Border Patrol, the group entered the interrogation room where Erik Gerig was handcuffed to the table. He was now wearing an orange jumpsuit. A public defender was seated next to him and after reading him his rights, Oakley turned the questioning over to Roy since he seemed to have gained the young man's trust.

"Erik, I guess you've had a little time to think now. Did you get something to eat?" The older man sounded like a concerned grandfather and to anyone that didn't know about his track record with the CIA would think he was just that.

"Yeah." The voice was subdued.

The defense attorney shook his head. "You don't have to say a word to them."

"He's right, son." Roy took a sip of coffee. "But if you want to get that deal we talked about, you're going to need to do a lot of talking."

"I already helped you."

"You did." The older man nodded. "And when this goes to court, your testimony will be needed. Now is the time to get it all down while it's fresh in your mind."

The lawyer, a gaunt-looking man of about fifty shook his head. "We need time to organize my client's defense. We're done talking for right now."

Erik looked back and forth between them, then at Houston and the others who were leaning against the wall staring at him. Roy saw the concern in his face.

"Just so you know, the offer could be withdrawn at any time by the prosecutor. You helped us earlier and we're glad - but if word of it gets out you're going to have a tough time of it behind bars. We can make sure that no one can get to you if you continue to help."

The lawyer stood up. "No. He won't be mak-"

"I want the deal." Gerig held his cuffed hands up to hush the attorney.

"Alright, son. Let's go through it from the very beginning…"

The attempt to question McManus was a fiasco. At first the former Homeland Security Agent refused to say anything at all. Just as the group was about to leave the interrogation room, Reggie attempted to attack Matt, the end result being that he found himself once again face down and this time he was hobbled. Four guards carried him screaming and cursing from the room. He could be heard until the elevator doors shut. Prospero ordered him put into a special suicide watch cell where a guard would watch him twenty-four hours a day.

That night there was a celebration held in Matt's suite at La Posada. The door buzzed and Houston went to answer it. All the men in the room grew quiet and Vince eased his pistol from the holster on the coffee table and went to the door behind his friend. Nothing was said as the door was opened and a heavy-set Hispanic man in his sixties stood there smiling and extended his hand to Houston who skipped the hand and pulled the man into a hug. The other men in the room looked at each other questioningly and stood in silence as the pair embraced. "Come on in here." The younger man ushered him in. "Y'all, I'd like to introduce Pablo Escamilla. He was my father's business partner in Nuevo Laredo."

Each stepped forward and shook his hand. Roy thanked him profusely for helping his nephew.

"I only wish I could have done more for him." He put a hand on Matt's shoulder. "I still can not get over how much you look like your father. You have his build - and the attitude." This sent the group into a fit of laughter.

"Let's get you a drink." Matt turned back toward the bar.

"I brought that bottle of tequila we talked about the last time we saw each other, Mattlock." The chubby man held up a bag.

"In that case, let's get to pouring." Each man took a shot glass and listened as Escamilla held his aloft and proposed a toast. "To Wade and Carmen Mattlock." The glasses clinked together and they took seats as Pablo began to tell about some of Wade's exploits at the bar that they co-owned in Mexico and the hours that passed were filled with laughter and plenty of toasts.


End file.
